Inspired
by Vitaliciouscreations
Summary: Right now, this is just a collection and mish-mash of strange ideas given and taken and come up with for SPN/DP that I wanted to go on, but not in full story mode. To anyone who wishes to go on and read it, enjoy. To those who don't, you don't have to enjoy. 10, sequel to 5. This scared little boy in the mental hospital, you could hardly believe he had the ability to kill demons.
1. Chapter 1

**Hey, hey, hey! First, I'd like to put out there that this IS in fact a mish-mash of yet MORE Supernatural and Danny Phantom crossovers. (You say WHAT?!) yes, okay, these two shows together have inspired me. sapphireswimming (yes, no caps) has also inspired me with her glorious The Cave of Carbannog SuperPhantom ideas. I'll run that by you again, just for insurance:**

**sapphireswimming, The Cave of Carbannog, Chapters 7 and 8.**

**sapphireswimming, The Cave of Carbannog, Chapters 7 and 8.**

**sapphireswimming, The Cave of Carbannog, Chapters 7 and 8.**

**sapphireswimming, The Cave of Carbannog, Chapters 7 and 8. **

**Okay, I'm done, don't worry. Just, you know, a little credit for the person, story, and chapters above for ze wonderful ideas. The following is idea A on chapter two, for any of you guys who want to check it out. I'll be having a party. with these ideas.**

**I ALSO DON'T OWN ANY OF THE RECOGNIZABLE FOLLOWING IDEAS, PERSONS, PLACES, THINGS, OR ANY OTHER VARIATION OF A NOUN YOU CAN COME UP WITH. SOME THINGS I DO NOT OWN ARE INCLUDED IN THE FOLLOWING LIST, BUT THE THINGS I DON'T OWN ARE NOT LIMITED TO THIS LIST. DANNY PHANTOM, SUPERNATURAL, AMITY PARK, NASTY BURGER, ANY CHARACTER, THE IDEA OF FUDGE, A BLACK 1967 CHEVY IMPALA ( :(:(:( ).**

**WARNING: Tucker is OOC.**

**Okay, ENJOY the story then.**

Danny found that non-horror movies were a lot more entertaining when watched upside down, especially when he was allowed to use his powers to get in such a position. Mom and Dad were away on a one-week ghost-hunting convention to which Jazz had _somehow_ convinced them they they could handle themselves for a week, especially since they didn't have to get to school that week, and that it would teach Danny responsibility and show that they could handle themselves in the outside world and all that nonsense. Danny swore she had some sort of magic persuasive power, but he didn't really care too much at the moment.

"You're floating in the way!" Sam protested, and Danny shifted his weight so he floated out of her line of view, so she could see the TV again. Sam and Tucker were laying upside down on the couch, the middle cousin left incase Danny wanted to stop floating aimlessly and anchor himself. So far he hadn't wanted to.

"Remind me what you three are doing again?" Jazz wondered, raising an eyebrow at the three upside-down teens who simultaneously reached down (or up) for the popcorn and shoved it in their mouths.

"There's a challenge going around school, exclusively for Sophomores," Danny began. "You have to watch the entire movie _Sunrise Angel_ without barfing, running away, ever once pausing for a break from the movie, and having the sound turned up loud enough so you hear it the entire time."

"And you have to video tape yourself doing it," Sam added. "So they know its authentic."

"Uhh…" Jazz trailing off, looking at her brothers glowing form. "And they're not going to think its a bit suspicious that you guys watched it with Danny Phantom?"

"The challenge ended a dozen or so days ago," the only girl other than Jazz informed the red head. "Nobody could do it. We wanted to see if the movie was really that bad."

"And is it?" Jazz wondered, but her mind was on another question.

"Oh yeah," Tucker confirmed. "It's pure garbage. Zombie Teacher III was better than this, and the effects were _horrible_ in that."

"So why are you watching it upside down?" Jazz finally popped the question that had been nagging since she saw the three teens in the living room.

"It's better this way," her brother replied.

"Yep," Sam confirmed. Tucker made a noise of agreement as well. "Their eyebrows do really funny and expressive things, and watching it upside down really exaggerates that to the point of hilarity, and even though the script is _horrible_ and the blocking is _crap_, everything if freaking hilarious when you're watching it upside down."

"I see," Jazz said, grabbing an apple from the kitchen and taking bite. "Mind if I join you?"

"Really?" Tucker wondered, turning his head towards Jazz. "You don't seem like you'd be in the mood for this kind of thing."

"I'm not going to be watching it upside down," Jazz explained. "You guys look low on popcorn. Do you want me to make some more?"

"Yes please!" all three teenagers chimed in unison.

"That'd make you an awesome older sister, Jazz," Danny added.

"I always like to be awesome," Jazz replied, and went over to the cabinet, grabbing a bag of microwavable popcorn and tearing the plastic wrap off. She popped it in the microwave and pressed the popcorn button, tossing the plastic in the "Fenton Waste Disposal", which was really just a hole in the wall which led to a dumpster out back which Danny and Jazz used to get rid of toxic food and demon wieners.

The popcorn began popping, audible "pop" sounds permeating the kitchen. "You _are_ awesome," Danny said from his vantage point floating upside down above the floor. "Let's see if I can get the bowl to you."

"I thought you weren't supposed to look away," Jazz pointed out, tone curious.

"I'm not looking away," Danny replied, and Jazz felt a gasp pass her lips as the now empty popcorn bowl trembled without anybody touching it, and then wrenched itself into the air and off the floor, nearly hitting the ceiling before it abruptly stopped. Without it in constant motion, and getting over her initial shock, Jazz could see the bowl glowing very lightly as it slowly wavered its way back down and shakily towards her.

"Telekinesis?" she wondered, plucking the bowl out of the air just as it was about to spill un-popped popcorn kernels all over the floor. The bowl quit glowing.

"You bet!" Danny chimed happily. "Which is why its very important I don't get angry this week, because objects could start flying. I think its a good thing Mom and Dad are gone and its spring break. Perfect circumstances."

"What good timing for your power to come in," Jazz observed casually.

"It's time I got a lucky break for once," Danny defended. The microwave went off, saving them from further argument.

"Dude, you _never _get a lucky break," Tucker laughed, and Danny floated backwards just to shoot him a sideways glare while still keeping his eyes on the movie.

"Hey Tuck?" Danny whispered conspiratorially.

"Yeah?" his best friend wondered naively. Jazz saw Sam roll her eyes and smile.

"STOP JINXING IT!" Danny screamed in Tucker's ear, so loud and "surprising" that Tucker yelped and fell off the couch, landing on his head. Danny and Sam chuckled loudly, while Jazz hid a giggle behind her hand.

Jazz brought the once again full popcorn bowl over to the center of teenagers, setting where it had been before and climbing onto the middle spot of the couch, tucking her feet up criss-cross style so they didn't get in the bowl. She reached a hand down and grabbed a handful of the movie treat, picking each piece form the hand one by one and popping them in her mouth.

_"Oh, Eric!"_ The blonde girl put her hand to her heart and swooned dramatically.

_"Oh, Jessica!"_ the dark haired boy on the screen exclaimed, running a coarse hand through the blonde's hair.

_"Eric, I can't bear for us to be apart again!" _The blonde girl cooed, but this time Sam's voice joined hers, but in a purposely high-pitched tone which was obviously meant for mocking.

_"I know,"_ Both Danny and Tucker's voices joined Eric's as he spoke on screen. _"Every moment I'm not with you, my heart aches. But rest assured, Jessica, I will always be with you. You're my beautiful," _Sam's voice joined the two boys. _"Sunset Angel!" _they all cried out together, then burst out laughing.

"Woah!" Jazz noted. "Have you guys seen that part before?"

"Yes!" all three exclaimed together.

"This is our first time through," Sam explained to Jazz. "But this _exact_ scene has _literally_ played, like, five times between the different characters. It was like, Cindy and Mark, and then Isabella and Jacob-"

"Ja_son,"_ Tucker interrupted.

"Whatever!" Sam said, rolling her eyes. "You get the point. I don't even know how Tucker remembered that."

"I have a very avid memory!" Tucker defended.

"I don't think avid is the word you were looking for there," Danny informed him.

"Shut up, Danny. Nobody likes you," Tucker said, through it was a mostly joking way.

"OH!" Danny exclaimed, pretending to be offended, though he was aware that Tucker was joking. "I see how it is!" The doorbell rang. "If that's how it's going to be, you are hereby banned from watching _Sunset Angel_ until you answer the door."

"Good riddance to this monstrosity that calls itself a movie," Tucker muttered, flipping over and getting up, shuffling over to the door. Danny flipped right side up and transformed, floating down softly to land on the ground just as Tucker opened the door.

"Hello, we're Special Agents Louis and O'Connell. We're h-" The man was cut off abruptly by Tucker slamming the door in his face and turning round, pressing his back to the door with an expression of horror plastered on his face.

"How did they find me?" Tucker hissed, sounding utterly paranoid and crazy.

"Have you done smoothing illegal?" Sam and Danny wondered in unison, giving Tucker a cautious look. "Those guys were FBI," Danny continued. "Why'd you slam the door in their faces?"

"_They weren't FBI!_" Tucker hissed, a vicious look coming over his face. Danny visibly flinched backward, even thought he was feet away and was thrown into buildings several times on a daily basis. "They were LARPers."

"LARP?" Danny raised an eyebrow. "It sounds like another word for throwing up. Were you part of a secret, underground, regurgitation organization, Tucker?"

"Eww!" Tucker scrunched up his face in disgust. "That's really gross, Danny."

Danny shrugged, getting up from the floor with the grace of a dancer and ease of a ghost. "I try. LARP?"

"Live Action Role Play," Tucker explained. "Sam got me into a series of books a while back-"

Danny gasped in mock-surprise. "Tucker? Reading? IMPOSSIBLE!"

"Shut up, you little smart-ass," Tucker told his best friend.

Danny grinned like an idiot. "I'm taller than you, though, so technically it'd be 'Shut up, you big smar-OW!" Danny was cut off by Sam kicking him in the shin, when he immediately doubles over and clutched the wounded area. Danny could take a ghost punch heading a couple hunted miles per hour, and ecto-beam of super-charged particles, but one kick from those boots would send him reeling. Danny was determined to steal those boots from Sam one day and hide them in a museum as weapons of mass destruction.

"Just continue, Tucker," Sam demanded as Danny once again straightened. Jazz tried to hide a giggle from her brother behind her hand, but failed. Danny gave her a glare, but his eyes were blue as he did so, which made Jazz assume he wasn't _too_ upset.

"So Sam got me into a series of books a while back, and at first I thought they were going to be horrible, but they were actually okay. We were on vacation last summer in Flordia, and I heard of a convention going on for all kinds of fantoms, including the _Danny Phantom _fandom." Danny glowered. still unhappy they'd started making comic books and graphic novels about him without his consent, and they weren't even paying him for rights. "So I went there," Tucker continued. "And I found this corner of the convention for the book series, called _Supernatural_ by Carver Edlund, and I went there, but everybody started ganging up on me because I wasn't in a costume from the books and I was carrying a Danny Phantom plushy, which was the most adorable thing so I had to get it for you, Danny, just to prove its existence and laugh at your expression, but one of the girls dressed as Ruby stole it because she liked you too, so yeah, but they _finally found me!_"

Danny blinked. "Anybody else here really confused to what's happening?"

"Tucker thinks those two FBI agents are secretly stalkers here to reprimand him for not wearing a costume at a convention," Sam translated, and Danny nodded, but then frowned again.

"Wait, there's a _plushy_ of me?" He turned back to Tucker, an incredulous and somewhat expression on his face. Jazz quietly noticed that a lamp on a nearby table was beginning to glow and walked over to set a hand atop it.

Just then, the door exploded inward upon itself, nearly flying off its hinges, and all four teens' heads whipped towards the front door, to where the two men were standing there with serious expressions on their faces.

"Great, Tucker," Sam said. "Now you're going to get us all arrested." She turned to the two men. "Excuse me, but do you two have a warrant to kick that door in?"

The two men looked confused, glancing around and seeing the group of teenagers. The only slightly abnormal sight was the red-headed girl leaning her weight on a fancy lamp.

The taller of the two turned to Tucker. **(BAM! Do you ****_see_**** that alliteration? DO YOU SEE IT? Sorry for the random authors note, I just had to. Just skip over it with your eyes.)**"Why did you slam the door?"

"These guys are really serious!" Tucker exclaimed, backing away with wide eyes. Both of the men gave him confused and weirded out looks.

"Sorry," Jazz apologized, stepping forward and carefully removing her weight from the lamp, which she half expected to raise into the air and start clubbing people over the head, like Killer Lamp Mafia, but the lamp did nothing. "He's convinced you two are super-fans for some book series." If Jazz didn't know better, she'd say the two agents exchanged equally knowing and exasperated glances.

Recovering their composure, the taller of the two addressed Jazz, since she seemed the most composed and ready to talk, since Sam's goth appearance made her out to be not very forthright with information, and Danny was trying to convince Tucker to be less crazy. "Umm…sorry, about the door. We're here regarding the recent murder of-"

"I _TOLD _you!" Tucker hissed at Danny, and Danny quickly slammed a hand over his mouth.

"Calm, little rabid Tucker," he soothed. "Cal-OW! He _bit_ me!" Danny drew his hand back, shaking it and investigating the skin for teeth marks. There were faint ones to be found, and Danny scowled at Tucker. "Now I'm getting Tucker rabies."

"Look," Jazz said to the two FBI agents, having to shout over Danny and Tucker's quibbling. "Maybe we should go upstairs so I can answer all your questions while these two resolve their issues-"

"TUCKER is the one with ISSUES!" Danny shouted.

"HEY!" an offended Tucker screamed back. "I'm not crazy, either those two are LARPers, or there's been a magical interference and they've actually come to life…" Tucker trailed off, eyes growing wide, then grabbed Danny by the shoulders and screamed. "Danny, run, these two hunt and kill ghosts!"

"Tucker!" Danny complained. "You just got spit all over my face. I'm banning you from Coke for life. _What_ exactly scared you so much at that convention you turn into a crazy psychopathic ball of screaming?"

"Shut up," Tucker told Danny, and Danny grinned,

"There we go!" the raven-haired teen said with triumph.

Jazz sighed in exasperation, putting her palm to her forehead. "Why don't I go answer your questions in the kitchen while these three finish watching heir movie upside down?"

"I totally forgot about that!" Tucker gushed, and Danny's eyes widened. All three scrambled over to the couch and got in their upside down positions while Jazz and the two men watched.

Jazz sighed. "I need to talk to Mom about keeping the extra-energy ectoplasm away from the Coke. These three obviously have way to much energy in their systems, or at least Danny and Tucker."

The two brothers shot each other looks at the mention of ectoplasm.

**Again, please refer to above warning. Tucker is, was, OOC. Oops. More to come, possibly. UNTIL NEXT TIME.**


	2. Chapter 2

**Let's see...I should so be doing homework right now, but I thought I'd post something for you guys to feed on and read and REVIEW (hopefully) while I got started on writing my english essay because I hav issues, and maybe I can just get it done in one huge chunk of homeworkness.**

**Do do do, do do-do do. Do do do, do do-do do. Duh do do, duh do-do do. SEMI-CHARM KINDA LIFE! Sorry, song I'm listening to. Plus, I felt like it. SO...GO ON! That way=V. Follow the arrows. V**

**. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .V**

**. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .V**

**. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .V**

**Okay, I guess I'm done being silly.**

**This idea was inspired also by:**

**sapphireswimming, The Cave of Carbannog, Chapter 8, idea F. Go there for details.**

**Enough dilly-dallying. LET'S GO! ...and ENJOY!**

Dean, Sam, and Bobby were sitting around the worn, old, wobbly table drinking beer straight from Bobby's fridge when the phone on the wall labeled "Animal Rights" rang loudly. Bobby was on his feet and over to the wall quickly, and the two boys also got up and strained their ears to hear the conversation.

"Hello?" Bobby said in a formal yet complacent tone.

"Hello. Yes, this is Officer Lyle Moore of the Amity Park Police Station. I have three children here claiming that they got official permission from you to free the monkeys taking part in the cosmetics testing of Gracia Cosmetics and dispatch them to various zoos."

Sam and Dean blinked at each other and started having a silent argument on whether or not this was the right number.

"Yes," Bobby answered, and Sam smiled triumphantly. "I gave them permission."

"W-well," the man seemed surprised in the confirmation. "They didn't have any legal documentation s-so I assumed they were making the whole story up. If you could come down to the station and provide the legal documentation papers we'd be happy to let them out with all charges dropped."

"Well, I'm currently in Florida, fighting for the rights of the alligators in the Everglades, and I can't make it too Illinois without forfeiting my position, so I suggest you release them with the proof of this phone call and there won't be any trouble." Bobby's voice was cutting, sharp, intimidating, and both Sam and Dean could tell that the poor police officer on the other end of the line would agree immediately.

"W-well I'll have to t-talk to my chief," to his credit, the man did formulate a good reason. "But I'm sure we can make an exception since you're incapable of making it here. We'll call you if there's any p-problem with the legal forms."

"You do that," Bobby said, and promptly hung up. "That idjit," he muttered, taking a heavy swig of his beer but not sitting down yet.

"Uhh…Bobby," Sam began. "What was that about?"

Bobby was spared from answering because the same phone, "Animal Rights", rang, and Bobby picked up. "You idjit," he growled into the receiver.

"Love you too, Bobby," came the reply in what Sam and Dean made out to be an adolescent male's voice. "Sam and Tucker say thanks."

"Please don't tell me you involved your poor technology-loving best friend in that harebrained scheme as well," Bobby said in a rough voice.

The voice on the other end laughed. "You're obviously a different Bobby than I've dealt with in the past if you think _I_ involved _anybody_ in an animal rights scheme. No, this was all Sam, like most of the times before."

"How many times do you have to see behind bars, Danny?" Bobby asked in an annoyed, but endearing tone. 'I'm beginning to think you like the view."

"Not so much, but I'll see them as long as Sam makes me," was the response, accompanied by a yelp and a small chuckle. "She just tried to hit me. I am so lucky I spent that weekend with you or I'd have permanent indents of the bottom of her combat boots on my shins. Killing a…what was it?"

"_Killing?_" was a soft, almost indistinguishable, female voice called.

"A Sherbacth," Bobby replied. "Nasty things, but you've got some pretty good hunting skills my boy, came out unscathed."

"_Killing?_" came the same voice, and there were several murmurs on the other end that neither Sam nor Dean could make out as words.

'Okay, so apparently even bloodthirsty monsters have animal rights and I should be ashamed for killing anything and blah blah blah," the boy's voice came. "I just had to dodge yet another attempt to eternally damage my shin bon-OW! Sam!"

There was faint laughter on the other end, and then a yelp and a cry of what sounded like "Hey! I had two more payments on that! Danny!". Bobby shook his head slightly, like he couldn't believe what he was hearing.

"So anyway," the boy's voice continued. "I just called to say thanks, you know, for making sure I avoided yet another lecture from Jazz about 'responsibility' when I'm _taking_ responsibility for 'freeing innocent creatures from the horrible clutches of the corporate rule'. Hey! I'm getting better at dodging punches. That's three in four in just the last couple of minutes. Oh! Four in five!"

"_Danny!"_ came an enraged cry from over the line.

"And now I'm running from the ever-terrifying wrath of my girlfriend." There was a slight draw in of air. "But thanks for getting us out of that pinch, Bobby."

"I just wish you would learn to say no to that girl, Danny," Bobby advised, shaking his head back and forth sadly.

"I can say no to her anytime I want," Danny boasted. "It's her combat boots that are hard to decline, especially the brand new level of pain they bring. I can be dragged around a training obstacle course by a crazy old man determined to make sure I collapse of dehydration, be shoved into every school locker ever invented, and be thrown into walls by ghosts on a daily basis, but those combat boots," there was a sound of horror on the other end. "One day I'm going to sell them to a nuclear weapons facility so they see what a weapon of mass destruction really looks like."

"You take care of yourself, Danny," Bobby advised, and hung up the phone. He turned to the boys. "That was Danny Fenton," he answered before the question even entered the air.

"Fenton? Like the weapon-makers?" Sam questioned.

"Exactly like the weapon makers," Bobby answered. "He's their son, and seems to be a better hunter than both of them combined, and he hunts a lot more often than most would expect, but he somehow still manages to find time to be a regular kid and help his girlfriend with her animal rights activism. He's the whole reason I got myself an animal rights alias, because if I hadn't him, his girlfriend, and their best friend would probably have a lot of prison time on their hands."

"He sounds fun," Dean noted dryly.

Bobby shrugged. "He's a teenager."


	3. Chapter 3 (twoshot with 4)

**WOOT! Okay, saying that this is a TWOSHOT! A TWOSHOT! TWOSHOT! Just getting that out there. This chapter, and the next chapter after it, which will be posted soon, but you can read it anyway you want. 'Cept from the bottom up. That might be a little confusing.**

**Sam and Danny FRIENDLINESS! YAY!**

**ENNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNJOY!**

Danny sat on the swing, his legs barely making contact with the earth as he ran back and forth to get just a little lift into the air. His eyes were focused on the two new kids he didn't recognize, both boys. New kids didn't really come to this park often, or at least not without parents. These two were special.

The older one sat on the bench casually, talking with a blonde girl who was smiling the whitest smile Danny had ever seen. The younger on was standing near the bench, fidgeting and glancing around everywhere, giving a few pieces of playground equipment longing looks. Danny could tell he wanted to play on the stuff, but he didn't get why he didn't.

Danny was alone today, since Jazz was at a friends house, talking about "sixth grade" things that Danny wouldn't understand, being a forth grader and all. Danny still wanted to know what they were talking about, but his Mom had told him that it really wasn't any of his business before she and Dad had drove him to the park to meet up with Tucker and his parents, providing a quick ruffle of his hair and a promise that they'd be back soon after patrolling the town for any hints of ectoplasm. 'Soon' could be perceived very differently by two different people, especially when Tucker ended up sick and Danny ended up alone.

The blonde girl smiled, leaned over, and gave the older newcomer boy a kiss on the cheek. Danny blushed and looked away from them, only for his eyes to catch on the youngest doing the same thing. As if sensing his gaze, the younger one looked up and locked his green-eyed stare one Danny's blue one.

Danny smiled brightly and waved to the younger one, who looked around his age. The younger one tilted his head, considered for a moment, grinned, and then waved back. Danny smiled even wider, and he saw the younger boy smile back.

Danny glanced around to tell Tucker about his new friend, but then realized the whole reason he'd made a new friends was because his old one wasn't here. He looked back to the boy and motioned with his arm for the younger one to come over and swing with him, because it was only natural to actually talk to your new friend, and the boy did seem like he wanted to swing.

The younger boy nodded and looked back to the older boy. The older boy looked up to him almost immediately, much to the blonde girl's annoyance, then looked to Danny. Danny felt uncomfortable under the scrutiny but tried not to show it, only fidgeting occasionally before the older boy turned back to the younger boy and told him something serious. Danny's new friend nodded quickly, sent a wayward glance towards Danny, turned back to the older boy and told him something, and then began walking towards Danny.

"Hi," Danny greeted the younger boy when he sat on the swing next to him. "My name's Danny."

"Sam," the boy said, smiling slightly. Danny grinned at him and ran across the ground, trying to get into the air again. Sam noticed, and tilted his head slightly, shaggy bangs flopping across his forehead. "It's eerier if you pump your legs," he advised Danny, and went on to demonstrate, shifting his weight the opposite direction as soon as he got to the peak of his swing.

After seeing Sam gain some air without even touching the ground, Danny tried to mimic him, and, with a little practice, got pretty high into the air. "Thanks!" he called to Sam over the roar of the whooshing wind in his ears. Jazz always told him that he needed to be polite, especially if they were people who hadn't met Mom and Dad yet, because they still expected normal courtesy, and if you overdid it a little, it would "make up for Mom and Dad's ridiculous passing over of the basic principles of society" whatever that meant.

Sam just nodded to Danny and kept pumping his legs, and Danny followed, trying to get a higher swing than Sam. Sam soon noticed and went at it even more ferociously, and soon each boy was trying to outdo the other, until the swings started getting too high and the chains started jumping in a pretty scary way, especially to Danny, who'd always been lighter than normal and the wind and bumps made it feel to him like he was going to get blown right off the swing.

Sam noticed his distress and slammed his feet down onto the ground, dust and dirt skidding up from the rut his sneakers made as they dragged across the terrain and slowed his path, successfully stopping his momentum and lowering his height. Danny mimicked him, but couldn't do it nearly as well. Sam stopped first, but Danny got there soon enough.

"Thanks for teaching me how to get that high!" Danny exclaimed, smiling at Sam.

Sam shrugged. "It's nothing."

Danny opened his mouth, but before his voice could enter the space, another's did. "Hey, Fent-loser," the voice sneered, and Danny immediately knew who it was. "Who's your new geek friend."

Danny gritted his teeth and swiveled on the swing to stare Dash down. The taller blonde boy towered above them both, especially since they were sitting down and he was purposefully drawing his height up a little my going up on his toes. A couple of his other friends stood a couple feet behind him, cocky smirks on their faces.

Dash turned his head a bit, his lip twitching upward in a triumphant smile, like he'd just won some nonexistent contest. "Yes?" he asked cheekily to Danny's infuriated expression.

"Go away, Dash," Danny muttered, glaring up at the taller boy. His fists curled around the metal chains of the swing, both for support and an outlet for anger.

"Not until you introduce me to your lame-o freak friend, Fenton," the other boy demanded. A couple members in his party crossed their arms to try and look tough. For Danny, it worked. For Sam, not even close.

"Leave him alone!" Danny tried to sound intimidating, but his voice held a tremor. A smirk spread across Dash's features.

He turned to Sam, arms crossing over his chest. "What's your name, loser boy?"

Sam didn't respond. He'd dealt with far more intimidating things than this mediocre playground bully. He didn't need to answer to this pompous, blonde jerk.

"You hear me?" Dash demanded after a moment, temper inflamed. "What are you, retarded?"

"Are you?" Sam replied finally, deciding on the tough angle, like Dean normally did when he dealt with stuff like this.

Dash took pause for a moment, confused that this kid was standing up to him, at least a little bit. "No," he growled after a bit.

"You sure?" Sam wondered. "It took you pretty long to answer that simple question."

A snarl formed on Dash's face, while an alarmed look was on Danny's. "Sam!" he hissed, and when the other boy looked to him, Danny rapidly shook his head back and forth, dragging a finger across his neck for emphasis. Sam ignored this obvious warning, knowing that he could probably take Dash with his eyes closed and one hand behind his back.

"You better listen to Fenton, nerd," Dash growled, and Sam noticed how Dash's insults needed a little work. "You don't mess with Dash Baxter!"

"I just did," Sam replied smartly. "Could you leave?" he asked Dash.

"Why you little-" Dash growled, and pounced towards Sam, evident on teaching him a lesson. Sam was well ready and prepared to dodge a hit and deliver one of his own, since it appeared he'd angered Dash to the point of actually trying to attack him, but he didn't have to, because the blow never fell. Instead of sending his fist towards Sam's face, Dash doubled over, and Sam was confused for a moment, before he railed what happened.

Danny stood with wide eyes over Dash's body, now on the ground, his foot still outstretched. Dash rolled around, clutching the area which had been struck and groaning. There were even a few tears leaking out of his eyes.

The boys in Dash's posse stared at Danny and Sam for a moment with their mouths and eyes wide open before running off and screaming, "Fenton kicked Dash in the nuts!" loudly.

"Dashiel!" a loud, obnoxious woman's vouch exclaimed, and they saw a tall woman with too much eyeshadow and too-high heels rushing over to them. Sam saw Dean strolling towards them too, eyes narrowed. Sam gulped, unsure what to do next.

The blonde woman looked up and Sam and Danny with a venomous look on her face. "What did you do to my precious angel, you little rats?" she hissed.

"Owww!" groaned Dash dramatically, and the blonde woman hugged Dash to her chest. Sam noted with disgust that the boy oriented his head so his face was very near the top of her shirt.

"You little monsters," the woman hissed again, glaring at Sam and Danny. "What did you do to him. What did you do to my precious Dashiel? You wretched l-"

"Whoa!" Dean arrived on the scene, interrupting the blonde woman, presumably Dash's mother, mid-sentence. "Let's not going throwing around names just yet." He addressed the blonde woman as if she were just another child, and Sam kinda felt like smiling at the thought. Then Dean turned to him. "Sammy, what happened?"

Sam ground his teeth, wishing Dean wouldn't call him Sammy in front of his new friend. Before he could utter a single word, the cry echoed around the playground again. "Fenton kicked Dash in the nuts!" was called, and it reached Dean's ears. Dean immediately picked up on the call, as did the blonde woman, and both focused their gazes on Danny, who shrunk under the attention.

"You horrible little child. You're just as bad as your moronic parents!" The blonde woman growled, and moisture shimmered at the edges of Danny's eyes. This time, Dean didn't interrupt her rant. Sam knew that Dean probably wouldn't let him see Danny for the rest of the time that they were here, and before he could stop himself, the words came out.

"It was me." The words seemed to fill every space in the playground, even though it was outdoors, but Sam only noticed three things. One, that Dash had stopped moaning and groaning and was looking up at him with genuine interest. Two, Danny was staring at with with an expression of awe and maybe a little worship mixed in. And three, Dean's disappointed and yet quizzical expression.

"I did it," Sam clarified, just in case nobody got it. He didn't meet Dean's gaze. He knew it would be disappointed, so instead he looked to Danny, and that made up for it. Because Danny was looking at him with bona-fide gratitude, a look that Sam rarely got from anyone, ever. It was always directed at his Dad or Dean. They did the cool stuff. Sam just did the research. But this time, he was on the receiving end.

"Come on," Dean growled, setting a hand on Sam's arm firmly. "We'll talk about this later." He started practically dragging Sam away, but not before Sam could catch the mouthed words "Thank you" formed from Danny's lips.

IYVIYIREBHUJNKCFTDREWQERTYUIOPKJNHBVCFDXSZZAEWFCGVHBJGFYCTDRCFBHJRGNIUEGROBHUDBIDBFIUHRDIUBRBEIEYRHGIURNVIORBPQUEBFIPHDFVHIBFDVI

Sam only saw Danny three more times after that, mostly because Dean and his Dad had him under careful watch for the rest of the time they were in Amity Park, and would drag him away as soon as they noticed him talking to anybody. _Especially_ Danny.

Still, Danny's 'thank you's always made Sam feel like it was worth it. Plus, it really had been his fault, so he would have decked Dash if Danny hadn't stepped in. It was only fair Sam take the blame. Plus, Dad and Dean didn't seem _too_ bothered, so it was better than Danny's parents being mad at Danny.

Sam really did regret it when he watched Amity Park disappear into an undefinable speck in the rearview mirror, not because that town had been extra-special, but because the friend he'd made there had been special. Especially since he'd even made a friend, despite everything and past circumstances and overprotective big brothers and stupid bullies. Danny still wanted to hang out with him for the two weeks before Dad and Dean had managed to dispatch the sucker in the woods outside the town.

Sam was also glad that, despite everything, he and Danny had managed to exchange full _real_ names and that he knew Danny's address. When he got out of the hunter lifestyle he could come back and reconnect with his old friend.

**I hope you LOVED IT! I dunno. I tried, but I don't know if I did very well. I also leaned far too heavily on the concept that, as little kids, we all think of acquaintances as close friends. At lest I did. I think I was a moronic little kid who is very lucky strangers never offered her candy. UNTILLLLL NEXT TIMEEEEEEEE!**


	4. Chapter 4 (twoshot with 3)

**PART TWO!**

**|E|N|J|O|Y|!|!|!|!|!|**

Sam leaned against the prison cell's wall, sitting next to his older brother on the bench that looking like it was about to snap in two it was so feeble. Sam half wanted to sit on it just to see if if would break and he could use the wood shards to pick the lock somehow, but even with both his and his brother's weight pressing down on the board, it stayed in one piece. Sam didn't know how.

The drip-drop sound of water leaking from the rancid toilet in the corner was nearly maddening, as was the ever-vigilant guard who watched them with wide hazel eyes. Sam had yet to see him blink, and wondered if the man even had eyelids to blink with.

He would have diverted his attention to the static-y, mute portable television set on a table that the guard could watch if he ever got tired of staring at them without blinking, except it was set on the news channel, and it just kept playing the same thing over again: the clip of he and Dean getting captured by the police, their mugshots and information, and over and over. That was the best Sam could gather with the TV being mute and the picture being distorted.

He would have told Dean that they needed to find a way out of this mess, except he assumed it was a given and the guard probably had good hearing too. Great hearing.

Sam was a little surprised that this was the best they had to hold nation-wide wanted criminals until somebody came to pick them up and fly them to a more secure place. I mean, a little town in Illinois wasn't expected to have the most secure holding cell ever, but Sam had admittedly expected something with less mildew.

Suddenly, a few clicking sounds came from where Sam and Dean knew the front entrance was. Only a few seconds later a loud clatter and bang followed. Sam assumed it was the government guys, here to take them away. He was loathe to admit it, but he didn't see a way out of this one.

Sam heard muffled voices, probably the government guys and the guards who'd been on the outside of the room chatting. He couldn't make out very many words, but soon enough one of the guards stuck his head in, an understandable nervous look on his face, but for some reason, it had an exaggerated look of awe and amazement on it. He sent Sam and Dean a curious look, eyes wide and excited, and then looked back to the never blinking guy.

"Ted," he sang excitedly. "You have to go see out visitor. I'll watch these guys."

The man who never blinked, newly identified as Ted, got up and left the room, leaving the other guy watching Sam and Dean. He had a happy, almost dopey grin plastered across his face, and Sam briefly wondered if he was drunk or stoned, but then he realized they'd never let anybody like that watch them, even for a little while before some government agency came to get them. Apparently it was some hot-shot, judging from the reaction.

There was an exclamation of surprise from the other room, probably Ted, and after a few minutes Ted came back into the room and looked at the other guy with a disbelieving expression on his face. "What…?"

The other guy shook his head. "I dunno, man, but I say we bring him in, just to make sure, and then…well, whatever he wants, right?"

Sam and Dean shot each other confused looks, and the guy besides Ted stumbled out of the room, and came back a minute later with three other people. The first two were normal, a policeman and a policewoman. The third…not so much.

Sam openly stared at the complete stranger, who stood comfortably amidst the cops, looking like he felt totally normal. He did, in a way, look mostly human, except for a few things.

He wore bright white combat boots, dark black jeans, a black shirt with a weird D, a white vest, and white fingerless gloves. He looked pretty tough, especially since, though he wasn't grotesquely bulky, he definitely had some muscle, and he wore confidence like an accessory. He was practically glowing with it. In fact, he _was_ glowing. His white hair flopped over his forehead, and yet somehow stopped just short enough so that it didn't obstruct a view of bright, neon, toxic eyes.

Sam's first instinct was to reach for a gun, but then he realized that he didn't have any weapons on him. Oh crap.

The man's eerie green eyes, which Sam could swear were shining light, drifted over both Sam and Dean carefully, but when they landed on Sam's face, a smile split the man's features. His glowing hand bushed white bangs out of his eyes casually and he tilted his head a bit, as if disbelieving and happy at the same time.

"Are these the men you were talking about, Phantom?" the guy who'd stumbled in and replaced Ted for a moment asked, voice shaky. "Phantom" nodded, still looking Sam and Dean over, and Sam had a feeling that the man recognized them in some way.

"You sure, Phantom?" the policewoman asked cautiously, and Phantom nodded again, stark white hair bouncing naturally.

"Yeah," Phantom said, and Sam started, because Phantom's voice had an echoey quality, and was kinda far off and very close at the same time. The soft smile on Phantom's face seemed almost familiar to Sam, but he was sure he'd remember somebody like Phantom. Dean didn't seem to recognize Phantom, but he did look confused. As confused as Sam looked, but twice as hostile.

"Sam and Dean _Winchester_!" the third male guard pushed, sending a nervous look to Sam and his brother.

"Yeah," Phantom repeated, nodding slowly like the guard was slow. "I know you guys think they're just criminals, but I know something you don't…" Yeah, Sam bet he did. "…and trust me, guys, these guys don't deserve federal prison."

Sam gulped, afraid that, whatever Phantom was, he was going to kill them right then and there. They didn't even know what kinda of creature they were dealing with, but apparently Phantom was pretty well respected, or at least by police officers. Phantom held out his hand to the only female police officer, turned his look from Sam and Dean to look at her. The took something from her belt, and Sam and Dean tensed, expecting Phantom to turn a gun on them, or a knife. They were thoroughly confused when instead, Phantom held up a set of keys, letting them see what he held before working on unlocking the cell.

Oh great, was Phantom going to try and strangle them with his bear hands? What did Sam and Dean do to offend him? Kill his family?

The cell door swung open, and both Sam and Dean stood tense, watching Phantom with static looks on their faces, determined to not go down without a fight. Phantom stood there for like three minutes, eyebrows slowly crinkling into a confused expression, before he finally made a huge show of stepping _backward_ even more than he already had and openly gesturing to the open cell door, for Sam and Dean to come through. They just stood there, a little confused.

Phantom finally risked a laugh, and it echoed just like his voice, but sounded completely human nonetheless, which confused the brothers. "You know," Phantom commented. "For two guys who have repeatedly 'died' to get out of prison, they're not too eager to escape." Phantom raised an eyebrow. "Come on. I'm not going to bite you. I'm setting you _free_."

Sam and Dean risked a glance to each other, knowing this had to be too good to be true, but after a minute or two, Dean stepped forward, as always, protecting his brother, and slowly passed Phantom and the police officers without getting his head ripped off. Sam flowed in suit, and Phantom closed the cell door, locked it, and tossed the keys back to the policewoman, clapping one hand on either of the brothers shoulders, even both were taller than him.

The police man that had replaced Ted for a short stint actually gave Sam and Dean back their guns and knives, and much to their surprise, Phantom didn't protest one bit. Not a single noise. Sam guessed he wasn't too concerned about them blowing his head off. That could either be good sign, or a very, very bad sign.

Phantom casually led them out of the building, not another single protest floating from the police peoples' lips until Sam, Dean, and Phantom were safely out of the building and awkwardly walking to the parking lot. In the dark of the night, Phantom's glow was even more distinguishable, lighting the area around them like a flashlight.

Dean suddenly stopped and turned a gun on Phantom, aiming it at Phantom's head. Phantom's green eyes widened slightly and he raised his hands almost immediately. He sent a quick glance back to the police station, but relaxed. "Don't worry," he reassured the brothers. "We can do this now. that can't see us. I'd advise against any warning shots to scare me, though. They'll hear and come catch you."

"What makes you think I won't put a bullet between your eyes on the first try?" Dean asked in a gruff, scary voice.

Phantom raised an eyebrow. "I thought you two were supposed to be famous hunters. Sam and Dean Winchester, the main gossip topic, besides me, around the Zone. Lot's of people beyond the Zaoian Wall seem to think that you killed them?"

Sam was taken aback, so he said the first think that came to mind. "Zaoian Wall?"

Phantom nodded. "The Wall that separates the normal part of the Zone from that other creepy part. Called…Purgatory?" Sam and Dean froze. "But to answer your question," Phantom continued, ignoring the total freeze up. "The bullet will go straight through me, at least if I want it to, so i suggest you putting the gun away before one of those police guys sees you. They probably won't act to kindly to you after that, and this whole thing will fail."

"Who are you?" Dean wondered, ignoring Phantom's advice. Phantom stuck out a hand, and both Sam and Dean tensed, but it was only to shake.

"Phantom. King of Ghosts," he introduced, winking. "Or at least I will be, once I die all the way. They don't listen to me too well right now."

"Die_ all the way_?" Sam pushed, confused.

Phantom waved his hand. "Long story. I'll explain once I've made sure you two are not going to be re-arrested right after you've been de-arrested. Now can you please put the gun away and cooperate with me long enough so I can drive you to wherever you stored your car? I _did_ just bail you out of a lifetime in prison, maybe even the death penalty."

"Dean," Sam pushed, not so much comfortable around Phantom as wanting to find out why he seemed so familiar before blowing his head apart. Dean paused for a moment, and then took the gun from it's rigid position aimed at Phantom's face and tucked it back into the waistband of his jeans.

'Good," Phantom proclaimed. "Come on." He strolled forward, and Sam and Dean sent a quick glance at each other before following. He weaved throughout he parking lot until finally coming across a sleek silver and black Saab Phoenix, which even Dean had to admit looked pretty awesome for a modern car. **(You'll want to look up silver saab phoenix in any search engine {Preferably Google} if you want to get a idea of what i'm talking about)**. Phantom motioned for the brothers to get in. "Either of you guys want to drive?"

They gave him quizzical looks. Phantom shrugged. "I don't know where you stashed your car, and I'm not the best at following directions. And, for some reason, I feel like to many questions will be flying for any directions to be said."

The brothers both nodded at each other, and Dean let Sam get in the drivers seat, since he was more oriented with more modern cars. Sam got in the passenger seat and Phantom was stuck in the back seat of his own car, but he didn't seem to mind that much.

It was only after a few minutes of awkward silence on the road when both brothers were comfortable Phantom wasn't going to make them crash. Sam let fly the question that had been bugging him since Phantom had first opened the cell. "Why'd you spring us?"

Phantom chuckled. "Hmm, well, let's see? Oh, gosh, now I can't remember now…Ooh yeah! You only stopped the freaking apocalypse, along with many other apocalypses that don't have 'the's in front of them. I thought it was the least I could do. Especially since Sam is an old friend."

Sam swiveled immediately to face him and glared at Phantom. "How do I know you?" he asked.

Phantom leaned back casually, seemingly totally relaxed. "You kinda lied for me and saved my ass not thirty miles from here, so when I learned you and Dean had been arrested, I thought, hey, I owe him, the hell with it. I also figured you'd need a ride, so I brought my sweet ride. The only thing I didn't plan for was you being a foot or so taller than me, Sasquatch."

"How do I know you?" Sam repeated again, but in a less threatening tone.

Phantom shrugged innocently. "After I died, kind of, I changed my last name to Phantom. But consider, we're in Illinois, I mentioned a thirty miles or less distance, and my name is _Danny_ Phantom. Think for a moment, _Sammy_."

Sam froze, eyes widening as his mind worked out the prospected. He nearly burst out laughing. "Danny?" Sam chuckled, almost getting over the fact that there was a glowing man in the backseat. "We were ten years old."

Danny shrugged. "It was a big deal back then, and I mean, I thought since you stopped the apocalypse for me, I may as well pay you back. My original attempt on paying you back was pulling Dean out of Purgatory when I heard he got sent there, but I couldn't find him, even the few times I _did_ manage to get past the wall, but it's good because he found his way out before I could pull him out, so instead I pulled you both out of prison."

Sam raised an eyebrow at the man in the back seat. "You're dead," he stated blankly.

Danny nodded, not seeming too down about it. "Kind of. And immortal at twenty-four, which is a nice age to freeze at. My tenth death day, and I just stopped aging. That was a bit of a surprise," Danny nodded, seemingly lost in a memory.

"_Kind of_?" Sam pushed.

"Kind of," Danny repeated. "I guess you could say I'm half dead, if you wanted to try and explain it. I prefer to think of myself as a living ghost, which is a contradiction, but there's really not much of an explanation otherwise. See, watch," Danny held up a finger. "And make sure you don't get blinded."

Suddenly, a bright white ring of light formed around Danny, and separated quickly, leaving what appeared to Sam as a normal twenty-four year old man with black hair, blue eyes, and a cocky smile. No glow, normal outfit. Nothing super weird. He looked average.

"See!" Danny proclaimed. "Half dead!" The rings came back, and the glowing, floating, white-haired, green-eyed version of Danny came back. "Just different colors, and EMF and Ghost Finders don't see me as well in human form. You probably want to know what the hell happened to make me half dead, but I'm not sure. My best answer is that I was electrocuted with ectoplasmic energy, so it only turned me half ghost, because the ectoplasm saved me, kinda. I don't really know, honestly." Danny shrugged.

There was a silent pause, and then Sam spoke up. "Well, thanks for getting us out at least."

Danny tilted his head. "You're not even going to _try_ and kill me? But you guys are hunters! You exterminate non-human things."

"You saved our asses back there," Sam replied. "But you step out of line, and we'll be back."

Danny laughed. "Save that threat until the end, when you guys have your car, and I'm about to drive away in my _sweet_ ride. We exchange phone numbers, talk a bit, I get in my car, and you imply a thinly veiled threat about being good." Danny held his hands up. "But don't worry, though. I've saved the world too, you know. NOt nearly as many times as you guys, but sometimes. And, I mean, if I die all the way, I'm the King of Ghosts, so I have to be good otherwise some rookie halfa will come kick my butt into a magical sarcophagus."

"What?" both Dean and Sam asked, confused.

Danny chuckled again. "Nothing," he muttered, shaking his head*****. There was a pause for a few miles. Then, "Do you guys mind if I fly alongside the car for a little while. I'm getting claustrophobic."

Sam and Dean tried to act like this was a perfectly normal question and each muttered something about not being able to stop Danny if he wanted to. Danny smiled and dove straight through the car ceiling and into the sky. Sam and Dean tried to act like this was normal too.

***I would just like to put out there, you should be glad I went over this and tried to edit, because I put "shaking his tongue" there, because I have a diseased, distracted mind.**

**MEH! Okay, UNTIL NEXT TIME!**


	5. Chapter 5

**HEY! Wassup. This might be a little uncut...*shrug***

**ENJOY!**

Meg was intrigued. She'd first spotted the man in the break room, and she'd been sure that it was Cas, but it hadn't been. She'd reached out to take his shoulder and lead him back to his room, because he was fairly unresponsive, but the man had instantly wheeled around and his spectacular blue eyes landed on her. His shoulders relaxed slightly, and he gave her a small smile.

_Just another crazy person,_ Meg complained in her mind. Sure, she'd volunteered to be a nurse at this cursed place, but besides Cas, all the mental cases in here were annoying. She wasn't actually a mental nurse, and she didn't deal with crazy people for a living, nor did her meatsuit, so having to deal with all the mentally insane people in this place was annoying.

"Hi," the man said, drawing her out of her thoughts and keeping the gentle smile fixed on his face. Meg wondered what he was in for. Probably drugs or suicide or something obnoxious to deal with.

"Hello," Meg said, fixing false smile on her face and trying to make it seem genuine. She was getting pretty good at faking calm happiness.

The man arched a black eyebrow at her, and Meg subconsciously noted that he did look a lot like Castiel, so she really couldn't blame herself for the mistake, even though Cas was only now starting to react to anybody, even her. "So, is it a bad day, did you spill your coffee, or do you just not like me?"

Meg blinked at the man, whose demeanor was still polite, cool, calm, and collected. His smile widen an bit and his eyebrow twitched upwards again, indicating he really did mean for her to answer the question. She wondered if he was in some way related to Cas's vessel, Jimmy, because of the uncanny resemblance.

"Sorry," she murmured softly, smiling kindly and really putting effort into making it seem like she meant it. "I just thought you were another patient, and I thought he was out of his room, when he really shouldn't be. Hi, I'm Nurse Masters."

For a moment, when her false last name passed her lips, a look flashed across the man's face, but it was gone before it was present for even a second, so Meg assumed she had imagined it. The man held out a hand, and she slid hers into it. His skin was cool, and his palms callused. Meg wondered how callused palms happened in a place like this, but it certainly made the man in from of her a little more interesting. Perhaps enough to be suspicious.

"Danny Fenton," the man said, releasing her hand. Meg froze for a moment, because those annoying, gossiping other nurses had whispered about this one. A few of the nurses, Gloria, Karen, and Janet (?) had crushes on him. All the other nurses swore up and down that he had never acted insane around them, and yet he remained inside the mental hospital. Curiosity nagged at the back of Meg's mind.

"Nice to meet you," Meg said, not even bothering to stir up a smile, even a fake one. It was becoming clear to her that he could see right through the false clashing of perfect white teeth under red-lipsticked lips.

"You too," Danny said, his eyebrow pushing up slightly. Meg did note that there was reason for those idiot nurses to have a crush on him. He was well built, a handsome face, nice hair, beautiful eyes, and Meg had very little doubt that underneath that stark white shirt there was at least some kind of muscle. Callused hands, too. Meg wondered that if by appreciating this man's gorgeous looks, she was also thinking about Castiel's looks. Probably not. They did look relatively different, after all. Just kind of similar.

A bell rang out through the building, and the small smile that had been present on Danny's face for the entire time they were asking dropped of his face, not replaced by a frown, but a serene expression. He raised a hand and gave Meg a little farewell wave. "Well, bye," he said, and began slowly moving away. "Talking with you wasn't _totally_ awkward." His back turned completely and he strolled down a hall in the opposite direction of Castiel's room. Meg stared at him back with a confused look on her face before turned away and going to check on the inhabitants of the hall where Castiel's room lay.

* * *

><p>It was a while before Meg talked to Danny again. She saw him around the break room, the cafeteria, but they never confronted each other. That is, until Castiel got relocated to a new wing with less patients, along with a dozen or so other patients, and Meg was assigned to that hall because she was the only one Cas seemed to notice in the real world. Meg suspected it was because of her demonic self. He could see her true face, and his angel instincts sensed her at a subconscious level.<p>

Meg didn't wipe the drool of the patient's faces, but she'd learned to be a little more patient with the patients and at least waited for them to take the first bite of their meals before moving on. She couldn't have any patients starving on her, after all. She would no doubt get fired on the spot.

So when Meg was assigned to the new wing, she spent fifteen minutes with Cas, of course, to make sure he was alright, before taking the food cart and wheeling it down the hall, spending a minute or two with each new patient, making sure they were situated nicely and that there were no pointy objects in the rooms of her three suicide cases. Slowly, she made her way down the hall until she reached the last occupied room, and opened the door.

The patient inside was lounging on the bed, arms behind his head, staring at the ceiling with a calm look on his face, unlike all the other patients. Like he didn't mind being in a mental hospital one bit. When she walked in, his head turned to her, shaggy black bangs falling across his features, but even the thick black hair couldn't hide the illuminative blue color of his eyes.

"Hello," his voice said, as she could remember it. "Nurse Masters, right?" He sat up on the bed, and when his feet hit the floor, his knees straightened into a standing position. Meg was aware on how he was a few inches taller than her, or maybe a bit more than a few.

"Right," Meg said, meeting his bright blue gaze. "Daniel, as I remember?"

"I prefer Danny," he corrected casually. "So I guess you're the new nurse whose going to be sitting here staring at me until I shove the ass sandwich down my throat?"

Meg took the last sandwich off the cart and held it out to him. He took it, scowling at the bread before looking back up to her, small smile forming. "I take it you're not too found of the chef, then," Meg murmured, raising an eyebrow.

"No," Danny replied, sitting back on the bed. He gestured to a chair in the corner, a piece of furniture that only went into calm and not violent patients rooms. "Care to sit down while I choke this monstrosity down? You are supposed to watch, yes? That's not just crazy nurses?"

"We have to make sure you're getting enough nutrition so you don't starve. Especially the suicidal cases," Meg replied calmly. Danny nodded sagely, like that made sense, which it did. He took a bite of his sandwich, then grimaced. Meg watched as he dismantled his sandwich, took out the neatly sliced ham, set it to the side, put the sandwich back together, and then took another bite. This time, there was hardly a frown at all.

"So are you here for taking the deli meat out of sandwiches?" Meg wondered, and almost berated herself for being offensive, but she didn't think Dany would take it to too much offense.

Danny laughed, and Meg noted that she was right. He didn't seem to be too sore on the issue. "Nah," Danny replied, waving hand. "I put myself in here. Thought I saw a unicorn," he joked. Meg knew it was a little deeper than that by just looking at him. Oh, and unicorns didn't exist, so that too.

Meg didn't want to push, so she let a moment of silence pass between them before Danny broke it. "So," he began. "In all honesty, you look a little bit too young to be a nurse here. Most of them are nearing forty now. How old are you?"

Meg knew her real age wasn't forty, but forty thousand, but she didn't say that. She knew her meatsuit's age was around twenty nine, so she answered with that. "Twenty nine, give or take. You?"

Danny's tiny smile widened a bit. "Twenty six, give or take." He took a bite out of his sandwich. "You know most of the nurses lie about their age to me, and act all shocked when I tell them I'm only twenty five."

"I thought you said twenty six," Meg pointed out.

Danny grinned mischievously at her. "Give or take."

Meg raised an eyebrow at him, and he shrugged. "So you don't like meat?" she continued the conversation, watching him consume that sandwich.

"Mostly just ham," Danny replied. "Don't like ham, and I don't like a big amount of turkey, like they give us at Thanksgiving, because turkey has that chemical in it, right? The thing that makes you sleepy. I don't like that."

"You don't like being sleepy?" Meg wondered, because a note in his tone had implied something, but she wasn't really sure what.

Danny laughed softly. "That's not really much of an option, seeing as how, when I first got here, they had to pump about a billion drugs into my system to make me sleep every night. Insomnia. Gotta love it, right?" Danny shrugged. "I don't like being forced to sleep. Makes me feel like I'm in danger."

"Like you're in danger?" Meg pushed. She didn't care too much for this guy, she hadn't known him before now, and she didn't know him even now, but he was curious, and something on her radar was telling her to pay attention. Besides, he had to finish his sandwich.

"You know, drug him, gag him, drag him into an alley and steal his kidney?" Danny joked, but there was a note of seriousness underneath. "I guess that's why they think I'm crazy. Paranoia and-" he caught himself. "Well, you can read the case file."

"What?" Meg pushed, eyes narrowing.

Danny shrugged innocently. "Lots of weird things. They keep me here because of where I lived, what my name is, and I don't even know if I'm crazy or not. I mean…actually, i don't know what I mean. But hey," Danny held up his empty hands. "Sandwich all gone. If you want me to eat the ham, pay extra. You can go gossip in the break room now."

Meg got up, hiding a strange look. She turned around at the door to face Danny. "I'll see what I can do about getting your sandwich with roast beef."

"Yes!" Danny cheered, and smiled at her. Meg wondered why he acted so casual and easy around her if he was in for paranoia. The other paranoid case she'd had shrieked and cowered every time she came in the room. Meg waved at him as she grabbed the cart and pulled it out the door shutting it behind her. She paused for a moment, outside the door, and then grabbed the case overview from outside the door and tucked it under her arm as she wheeled the cart back to the dining hall.

* * *

><p>"Hello!" a voice sang when she unlocked the last door at the end of the hall. She stepped in and saw Danny sitting on the floor, knees bent in front of him, arms loosely wrapped around them. She felt herself frown a bit.<p>

"What are you doing?" she wondered, discreetly setting the case file back where it had been. She'd stayed up the whole night reading it, but it's not like she actually ever slept, and at least it was something to do. She was thankful that Cas hand't questioned her about it when she carried it into his room and sat down in his chair. What was the point in getting some stupid apartment to lounge in when nobody else was going to be there and she didn't sleep. She stayed the night in the chair in Castiel's room most night, or went out and drank and talked with the idiot locals.

"Magic," Danny replied with sarcasm in his tone, getting to his feet, white sneakers squeaking slightly against the white tiled floor. "Read my case file?"

"Yes," Meg answered honestly.

"So?" Danny asked. "On a scale of one to ten, how crazy did it make me sound?"

"Not that crazy," Meg responded, and there was truth to that statement as well. "A mild case of paranoia and an irrational belief in the supernatural. As soon as we stamp that belief out of you, you can walk, and hopefully the paranoia will die with the belief." Meg had been astounded when she found out what exactly Danny was in for. The person who had written the report was obviously astounded and frustrated, because Danny acted completely human, completely normal, with a bit of showcasing paranoia every once in a while. He'd be completely free except for his astoundingly faithful belief that the supernatural existed.

Meg was almost sure that Danny wasn't crazy at all. He believed in demons and angels and vampires and werewolves and ghosts. Especially ghosts. But when one bratty nurse had asked him how to kill a vampire, burning it or staking it, Danny had laughed and told him neither, you had to cut the head off. Completely correct. And to Danny vampires didn't have two fangs, but a mouthful of them, and a bite didn't turn you, blood did. Every fact that they'd gleaned from Danny was correct. Danny's case file was practically a roadmap of information for a beginning hunter. He knew stuff, but he wasn't crazy. And who in their right mind wouldn't be paranoid after seeing what was out there?

"Good luck stamping the crazy out of me," Danny advised. "I don't think it will come out. I mean, I know ghosts exist, so why not everything else too? I've seen it all, and I mean I guess I could have very well hallucinated all of that, but the ghost part. That's true."

Meg was puzzled. "How do you know you didn't hallucinate the ghosts too?" Of course, they weren't hallucinations, that much she knew was true, but why was he so sure?

Danny merely chuckled and leaned back on his bed. "You'll never know, but I guess that's just another thing to make me crazy to you, isn't it?"

Meg blinked at Danny. She took a plate off the cart and handed it to him, which was filled by a simple breakfast of eggs and toast. Danny smiled softly, and began eating the eggs. After a moment, he looked back to Meg. "Want some toast? I guess I'm going to seem like a picky eater to you, but toast is gross."

Meg silently took the piece of toast Danny handed her, and ate it. She knew there was nothing in Danny's food, because there was no drug for making people disbelieve in supernatural creatures, and scary shit that goes bump in the dark. And paranoia really didn't seem to be a problem to him, just a side effect to the real problem. which, actually, wasn't a problem at all.

Meg, following an instinct she rarely did, took a seat int eh chair in the corner, and Danny shifted his position to look at her head on. Meg noticed that he seemed to be blinking an awful lot more than normal as he stared at her face with a peculiar expression, eyelids fluttering.

"What?" she finally asked, curious. "Do I have something on my face?"

"Something in your face," Danny replied, confusing Meg fully. "It's like it's over and under at the same time."

"What?" Meg wondered again.

Danny paused for a moment, staring at her with a cautious look, and then shrugged. "The heck with it," he said, downing the last of his eggs. "I'm already in a mental hospital. May as well let all the crazy out." Meg blinked. "There's a…well, a kind of black shadow."

"A black shadow?" Meg repeated.

"Over your face," Danny continued. "And under it. In it, to be more precise. Like they're sharing the same space. It's another face, but less pretty than your real face. And then there's like this black, shadowy stuff clinging to your arms. I've seen it only about a dozen times before, on various people. Don't worry, it's all part of the crazy. But can you do me a favor?"

"What?" Meg asked.

"Tell me what color your eyes are?" Danny pleaded, and Meg's stomach dropped, her very worst suspicions confirmed. "They look completely black to me. That weird, ugly face has taken them over completely." Danny paused, seemingly notching Meg's surprise and dread. "No offense."

**That's done. Maybe more...**

**UNTIL NEXT TIME!**


	6. Chapter 6

***maniacal laughter* WHOOOOO. Wow. This took me a bit. A bit being TWO AND A HALF FREAKING HOURS! I got the idea at ten twenty three, too, so... Yeah. It's one'o'clock now, and I'm not even tired, because one, my sleeping schedule is pretty much a "HaHaHa" to regulated sleeping patterns. Two, writing this almost gave me a shot of some sort of energy. I always feel better writing than any other time, so I guess that has something to do with it. Anyway, this popped into my head, and I couldn't do anything but immediately start writing like a madwoman. I don't even know what to do with this. What is this, even? Hopefully, it's good.**

**If I did not make it obvious, the world does not know Danny Fenton and Danny Phantom are one and the same. I think I put a bit too much detail in this story for a proper oneshot, but we'll ignore that. If anybody wants to supply me with what happens afterward, like Danny finding the Winchesters in time or not, I'd be happy to read your marvelous theories. I might not act upon them though.**

**Okay. I also have to say that the LANGUAGE IS RATED T! Foul language in this particular oneshot, so I'll run that by you again. THE LANGUAGE IS RATED TEEN! (more like tween, but whatever) ENJOY!**

Danny nearly drops the microwavable ramen noodles when there's a knock on the door. He quickly shoves the box, along with the rest of his groceries, in the one cabinet in his shitty apartment that _doesn't_ need repair in one way or another. He shuts the cupboard door a little too hard and winces, ready for it to fall of the wall, or for the small door to splinter down the center, but nothing happens. Beaming at this small ray of luck, he hurries to open the door.

He's careful with the doorknob, because it's already broken once, and he really doesn't want to go through the hassle of getting it fixed again. It might be the quality of the apartment, or it might be Danny's unintentional ghostly strength, but Danny has a sneaking suspicion that it's the former, or a mixture of both. The door swings open slowly, because Danny doesn't want to accidentally slam it into the wall and make another dent in the plaster because of the doorknob.

Danny blinked owlishly at his visitor, slowly taking in his appearance. He was almost sure that the person had had the wrong number apartment, seeing as Danny didn't really have any friends within range who would be willing to come to his apartment to say hi. The closest was Maria, the girl who worked with him at the coffee shop and flirted constantly even though Danny had repeatedly told her that he had just gotten out of a particularly long and sweet relationship and wasn't ready for another one any time soon. The next guess would be neighbors, but Danny had already met both of them, and neither of them would be making visits to some college kid who would probably move out as soon as he'd saved enough money for a better place.

Now that he saw who was visiting him, though, he was almost positive that the person had been directed correctly. Because it wasn't a human who had knocked on his door, but a ghost.

"Um," Danny blinked again, and shook his head slightly, to clear it. "Um, hey. How can I help you?" He really hoped that this wasn't another potential apocalypse he had to stop, because he had a huge English essay due on Monday, not to mention all the studying he had to do for the huge exam he had in Advanced Para-Physics, or the simple course he had to help teach on Ghost Diplomacy.

"Danny Phantom?" the floating, pale-skinned ghost in front of him asked, rather loudly. Danny glanced either way down the hallway quickly, but nobody but him and the ghost were within earshot.

Danny bit his lip nervously and ran a hand through his hastily-combed black hair. "Yeah…" he admitted nervously. He'd chosen this particular apartment building because it had no cameras, and it fit his tight budget with a few dollars to spare, but the neighbors were too nosy, and it was never quiet. "Look, maybe you better come in."

Danny stood aside to let the ghost float by him, which he did, though his flight was wobbly and uneven. Danny's eyebrows twitched upward as he saw this. _Newly dead,_ he mentally noted, shutting the door. _Probably can't do very much damage, and that explains why he didn't just phase through the ceiling._

"You don't have to fly," Danny told him. "Just focus on staying solid. I promise you won't fall through the floor."

The new ghost gave him a cautious look, but gingerly set his feet on the stained, tarnished floor of Danny's apartment. True to Danny's word, he didn't fall through the floor, and the ghost smiled at this small victory.

"So," Danny said, now that the ghost was almost comfortable. "Why are you looking for Danny Phantom?"

The ghost's head shot up from looking at his feet, and he gave Danny a suspicious look. "I thought you said you were Danny Phantom."

"I am," Danny admitted, mentally sighing. New ghosts were always paranoid, and never took the halfa bit seriously before Danny showed them. And they didn't seem to get that it wasn't Danny's job to teach them what to do. Danny was just a college student with a shitty job that paid barely above minimum wage, and wasn't worth the salary. He didn't have time to babysit every single new ghost the ghosts in the Zone sent his way. He barely had time to deal with any ghost, even the Box Ghost, anymore.

"Why do you look so normal?" the new ghost asked curiously. Danny blinked at the ghost in surprise. Because, one, he hadn't sounded suspicious, like most ghosts, and two, he'd used the word "normal", not "human" or "alive".

Danny motioned for the ghost to sit in one of the two unbroken chairs in the apartment, and then sat in the other. He folded his hands on the table and sighed, getting ready for a long story. "I'm only half ghost," he said, once the man had sat. He looked fairly normal, his skin being pale gray, not green or blue or red. His eyes were red, but that was pretty ignorable. He was of average height, a bit shorter than Danny, thanks to his Dad's towering height. He wore rather inconspicuous clothes too; a short sleeved shirt with a dragon surrounded to what seemed like German to Danny, with a simple gray jacket over that. Jeans and worn tennis shoes didn't stick out either.

"Half ghost," the man repeated incredulously. "I haven't heard that one before. Though apparently," he raised a hand to investigate his gray skin. "There's a lot I didn't know about. I guess I'm willing to believe it."

Danny smiled at the pleasant change of pace from the normal visits. "So…" he began. "What should I call you?"

"Chuck Shurley," the man across the wobbly table said, returning his attention to Danny. "I'm here because I need a favor."

_Here we go,_ Danny thought exasperatedly. He wasn't Mr. Fix Your Problems. Heck, he could barely manage his own problems. Less than four months ago Sam and he had broken up because she was headed to Africa for a few years. He hadn't talked to Tucker in at least two months, he had no idea where Jazz was, he was lucky to get in a message once a month to his parents. Not to mention handling the whole Danielle situation after the Guys in White had tried to take her under the basis that since she was a clone, she didn't deserve the basic human rights.

Danny tiredly rubbed at the bridge of his nose, fighting off a headache. "If you need to organize a meeting with your family, there is a well-practiced ghost diplomat at the University of Amity. If you want to resolve legal issues, such as arresting he one who killed you, you can take it up with the courts. There's an excellent lawyer down on the corner of Forth and Maple who will take ghost cases on very happily. If you mean to ask about living arrangements in the human world-"

"None of that," the ghost interrupted him. Danny's eyebrow twitched upward in curiosity. "I don't think anybody you could point me to can take care of my problem. I've heard that you are the one to go to in the need of ultra-impossible heroic actions."

Danny played around with the idea of saying no and going back to working on his English essay, but sighed and said, "Yes, I suppose."

"How good are you at fighting angles?" Chuck inquired, leaning forward slightly and putting some of his weight on the table.

Danny blinked. "Angels?" he asked blankly, a bit incredulously. "Are you messing with me, or are you seriously saying there are fucking angels?"

"I'll take that as 'bad'," Chuck muttered to himself. "You didn't know about the angels?"

"Was I supposed to know about the angels?!" Danny practically yelled, before closing his eyes and taking a deep breath. "I'm not even old enough to drink yet. Why do people expect me to know every little thing?"

"Maybe because you're a ghost superhero," Chuck suggested. Danny gave him a mild glare before folding his arms and leaning on the table fully, motioning for Chuck to continue his story. This just got a heck of a lot more interesting than a normal visit from a newly-dead ghost.

Before Chuck had the opportunity to say another word, the table collapsed from both his and Danny's leaned weight. Danny felt the shift in the table and leapt to his feet, grabbing Chuck's elbow to steady the ghost. Chuck went intangible accidentally, a reflex for most ghosts, especially new ones, not fully in control of their powers. Danny felt this and shifted his ghostly energy so he could touch Chuck anyway. The table crashed to the floor, two of the legs snapped in half, and another completely popped off the base of the table.

"Uhh," Chuck said, scrambling to get his balance and tug his arm from Danny's just-a-little-to-strong grip. "Sorry."

"Never mind," Danny said, bending to gather the pieces of the completely demolished table. "College furniture. I will rejoice the day I can finally throw this thing in the trash. But until then…" Danny turned the table leg intangible and phased it part of the way back into the flat table top. He phased the two broken table legs back together and then set the table back on it's wobbly legs, barely noticing that it was a bit more uneven than before. Chuck didn't know whether to be amused or sympathetic.

"Anyway," Danny said, rubbing his hands together and motioning for Chuck to sit again. "Angels?"

"Right," Chuck said, plodding the few steps back to his chair, which he noticed rocked back and forth as well. Danny sat back in his own chair and folded him hands in his lap, careful not to touch the newly repaired table. Chuck did the same, not wanting repeat of the incident earlier, but without Danny reacting fast enough to catch him. Face-planting into the floor in front of who Chuck heard to be one of the more powerful beings in the universe was not a great way to spend his day, Chuck decided. He hadn't really believed the whole "half ghost" thing before now, but now it seemed like a pretty plausible explanation.

"There's a pretty bad event approaching," Chuck explained. "It has to do with angels. Well, it'll probably affect other members of the supernatural community, but that's not as important. The Hunters will being going crazy; especially Sam and Dean. I mean, I would be talking to them, but, well, I don't really want them shooting me full of rock salt."

Danny held up a hand to stop the babbling ghost. "Okay, I'm sorry." He rubbed his temples and blinked tiredly. "You're going to have to slow down, rewind, and explain all of that again, _slower._ Are you a fortune teller or something? How do you know all of this? And why does hunters sound like a proper noun when you say it?"

"I thought you were experienced," Chuck exclaimed. Danny glared at him again, this time his eyes sliding over a bright green shade before returning to blue. "Alright," Chuck relented. "So, vampires and werewolves and angels and demons," Chuck began. "The monster that hid under your bed or in your closet when you were a kid? They're all real. In an extremely terrifying way. Vampires aren't sparkling princes that fight their inner instincts to hurt you, and werewolves aren't shirtless boys that traipse around in forests all day." Danny snorted and rolled his eyes. "No," Chuck continued. "Vampires, werewolves, changelings, djinn, dragons, fairies. They're all real, and to some people that would sound awesome, except most of the time these creatures try to kill anything in sight."

Danny ran a hand through his hair, sighing. He'd learned a while ago when to tell if somebody was lying or not, human or ghost, and Chuck wasn't lying. He was either telling the truth, or at least believed he was. And he said his words with such conviction that he either had to be speaking truth or a deceased mental patient, since he obviously thought he had proof. _Why not,_ Danny thought to himself. _It's not the weirdest thing to ever happen in my life. Ghosts, halvas…it would explain a lot of what I've seen that weren't ghosts._

Chuck had paused in his tale, looking at Danny and obviously expecting him to call Chuck a liar. Danny closed his eyes and licked his lips, before opening them again and giving Chuck a steady look. "Not impossible, considering there are three different brands of ghost out there. Why not demons, or angels, or whatever else the universe has decided to pile into the crap storm that is my life."

"Hold up," Chuck held out a hand. "Three different brands of ghost?"

Danny tilted his head from side to side, considering. "Yes," he finally decided. "Though category is probably a better word. And within each category are sub-categories. The three categories are the Prime, Secondary, and Tertiary. We're both Prime, having the option of being tangible, visible, and the possibility of powers past the three basics. We also have less weakness to things like salt and/or iron. Secondary is when you are invisible and intangible to humans, but ghosts…" Danny considered for a moment, "And possibly other creatures you just mentioned, can see and/or touch you. If you have enough will, you can even effect things telepathically. Tertiary is when you can't interact with either human, nor ghost, besides small acts, and are barely noticeable."

"What about poltergeists?" Chuck inquired.

Danny pondered upon this for a brief stint. "Poltergeists are like a sub-category between Prime and Secondary," he finally decided. "You probably don't care about the ghost politics and such. I'll save it for the Ghost-Diplomacy debate Thursday. Though how I'll explain how I know it is a mystery." He muttered the last part, but Chuck still heard. He decided not to comment, and settled on asking Danny about everything he knew on ghosts after he delivered his message."

"Anyway," Chuck continued. "All of that is real, and a ton of a lot more. There's going to be a disaster with this angel Metatron. He's going to make all the angels fall from Heaven."

"Fall, like, down to Hell, or…" Danny wondered. Chuck thought he was taking this violent turn to his life surprisingly well. Or maybe he was just going to deal with the shock later. Probably the latter, but Chuck wasn't complaining. His own mental break-downs were enough. He couldn't deal with another person's.

"Just down to Earth," Chuck reassured him. "Two billion or so Lucifers running around would be far too much to handle."

Danny cringed slightly. "Angels and demons, right. Does that mean God is real too?"

Chuck shrugged. "Apparently. But allegedly only four angels have ever seen him, so who knows."

Danny shut his eyes, exhaling slowly. When the crystal blue irises were revealed again, he posed the question, "And you know this, how?"

"I am, er- was, a Prophet of the Lord," Chuck claimed, cringing at how the words sounded coming out of his mouth. Danny sucked on his bottom lip, blowing air out of his lungs through his nose.

"'Prophet of the Lord'," he repeated, leaning an elbow on the table and supporting his forehead against his open palm. "I was trying to take this all in stride, but I am literally nearly at my limit for supernatural craziness." He glanced up at Chuck through his dark bangs. "Stop me if anything is wrong, but I'm currently chatting with a newly-dead green-leaf ghost who can barely fly without wobbling, and yet, claims he's a Prophet of the Lord with a prophecy of near-apocalypse because a freaking _angel_ is going to mutiny all his other fellow angels and send them all falling down to Earth. In other news, every monster that I've thought was fiction since I was seven is actually real, including God and Lucifer."

"Uhh, yes," Chuck said, worried about watt would come next. Instead of his fears of Danny leaping to his feet and going on a "let's kill Chuck for a second time" massacre, or screaming at him for being liar and forcing him out of the apartment, or various other dangerous reactions, the alleged half ghost boy across the table leaned back in his chair, threw his head back, and laughed. Danny's hands flew up to his face as he chortled, and his fingers weaved themselves through black stands of hair. After a bit, the laugh started slowly turning into a yell of agitation, until Danny was full-on screaming at the ceiling. Chuck wasn't sure how to react, but decided to let it play out, as this was decidedly a safer reaction than Danny taking baseball bat to Chuck's skull.

Finally, after a coulee of minutes, Danny stopped, inhaled deeply, and looked back to Chuck. He clapped his hands together in a securing manner and nodded determinedly. "Okay," he declared. "I think I'm ready for this. At least I'm not trapped in a poem again." Chuck decided he'd rather _not_ ask on that particular adventure. "But i swear, if you tell me Santa Claus is real, I'll scream…again."

Chuck thought back on the two pagan gods Sam and Dean had faced when he'd still thought that they were fictional beings of his imagination. "Well…"

Danny held up a hand, halting his speech. "Don't. Please. I swear I'll go insane."

Chuck wisely shut up on the matter. "Anyway," he said. "I'd normally go to these two guys, hunters of all things supernatural that kill, but I'm half faired they'll try to salt and burn my corpse."

Danny snorted. "Salting and burning the body or object of connection only works on Secondary and Teriary. Prime ghosts, like you, have enough self-regenerating ectoplasm to sever the link to your body as soon as you die. However, be careful of getting your obsession irradiated, since if you don't have enough ectoplasm in the immediate vicinity, I hear you can just dissolve." Danny paused, narrowing his eyes. "And you don't know what obsession is yet. I'd explain, but I'll suck at it. I have somebody I can direct you to in the Ghost Zone."

Chuck had been so busy focusing on getting somebody to warn Sam and Dean, and then on making sure Danny didn't go insane at the overload of information, that he hadn't even though about being a newly-dead ghost that didn't know anything. He didn't even know what the Ghost Zone was, besides the fact that the sky was green and he'd woken up there after he'd died. Learning more about the whole ghost thing, and the categories Prime, Secondary, and Tertiary were definitely a top priority, along with the sub-categories Danny had mentioned. Maybe when he got control of himself, he could even give Sam and dean visit himself, under the principle that they put the iron and salt away.

He shook his head, realizing they'd suddenly veered off the road of the message he'd meant to send. In fact, this entire conversation had pretty much been completely unexpected, especially with all the new information both he and Danny had to suddenly take in. But he needed to get back on track.

"Well, I'd normal go talk to these two hunters, Sam and Dean Winchester."

"The escaped convicts?" Danny questioned, raising a quizzical eyebrow. "I thought they'd both died in an escape attempt or something."

"They're good at faking their own deaths," Chuck told Danny. "And they're framed for a lot of things they haven't done, but also killing monsters that look like humans…It's a long story. I actually used to write books, when I was alive. I was actually writing truth, not fiction, and it was about Sam and Dean. My pen name was Carver Edlund. You could read them. It would probably help you…" Chuck trailed off, realizing that they were veering away from the point again. "Anyway, I can't go to them because they 'kill' ghosts. I came to you because I thought you were my best chance if I couldn't have Sam and Dean, listening to all the legends over the Ghost Zone." Chuck ignored Danny's blush at those words. "But now, I think maybe you can actually contact them without fearing for your life, because you can look human."

"Alright," Danny agreed, shrugging. "How, exactly, am I supposed to find these supposed monster hunters?"

Chuck opened his mouth…and then shut it again. "I…have no idea."

Danny made a clucking sound in the back of his throat. "Great. Let's add 'find crazy, escaped, convict, monster hunters' to my long list of impossible things to do, like passing English this semester." He glanced sideways at Chuck. "Don't worry. I'll try, and if worst comes to worst, I will find a way to fight off potentially threatening angels. That's really all I can promise, seeing as if I suddenly left to search for two escaped criminals, the GIW would have a field day. I'll search Ghost Zone gossip and get Tucker to hack any and all files about the Winchester brothers, along with looking for potential areas they'd target, and buying a new set of books by Carver Edlund. Let's hope I can handle it in time. In the mean time, I have a few calls to be making, and an English paper to be typing. Also, I'm assuming you came out of a portal set in an old brick house a few miles that-a-way?" Danny motioned with his hand in the direction North East.

Chuck nodded his affirmative. "Yes. Why?"

"That's my parents portal," Danny told the newly dead "Prophet of the Lord". "It's also in a set location in the Zone, unlike natural portals. It'll be a long, and probably tiring, flight, for a new ghost like you, but if you fly directly ahead of the portal until you come across the door with the giant red X painted across it, turn left until you find the tiny island with drinkable ectoplasm-infused water, and then turn right until you see the really big cave, and then turn up so you fly above the cave and keep flying at that angle until you see the huge library, you'll find across Ghost Writer, somebody who can and probably will help you. Especially if you say you're from me. Can you remember all that or do I need to write it down."

"I think I can remember," Chuck said, after a beat of hesitation. "I'm sorry for piling all of this on a college student. If you need help…"

"I can find whatever help I need," Danny reassured him. "And when you feel trained enough, you can drop by and tell me more about all of this other stuff. Hopefully the near-apocalypse will have been prevented by then. Good luck."

"Ditto," Chuck said, still feeling immensely guilty. This guy's biggest worry _should_ be his English essay. Not saving the world from what seemed like inevitable destruction. "Well, I guess I'll just be going…"

He scrambled to his feet, and then jumped into an awkward flight that made him feel unbalanced, like he was going to tip at any second. Danny noticed, and the hint of a smile came across his face. "Just focus," he advised Chuck. "Flying is more your mind then anything else. Stop thinking about how unbalanced to feel, or how uncomfortable. Just let yourself be happy that you're in the air. And for intangibility, just think about reaching for the wall, and having your hand go straight through it. It doesn't hurt when you become solid halfway through something, so don't be scared about that. Just try."

Chuck nodded, and noticed that as he focused more on Danny's words, and less on his flight, it became nearly effortless. He set himself back on the ground and reached for the doorknob. "Alright, will do. Thank you for listening. I'm sorry for dumping all of this on you."

Danny waved his hand in a dismissive gesture. "Don't worry. Believe it or not, this is no the most difficult impending apocalypse I've had to stop. Get going. The sooner you learn to control your powers, and if any more are to develop, the sooner you can come back and explain to me what the heck a 'Prophet of the Lord' is."

Chuck was astounded by how well Danny was taking this, but decided not to question it. Instead he simply nodded, walked out the door and into the hallway, and headed back for the portal from where he'd come. On the other side of the door, Danny was leaning his head against the cheap wood and inhaling deeply, trying not to think to much on all of this. After a few minutes, he grabbed his bag from a hook on the wall, swiped his library card and some cash from his bedside table, and locked his apartment door behind him, fully intending to get every single one of "Carver Edlund's" books from the library, along with a few pints of ice cream. His English essay could wait.

**All this ragging on the English essay is partly because in order to be in Honors English I have to write an English paper, sort of, on Enders Game, and I'm having problems. Not because I don't want to do it, but I don't really want to anyway. No, because I've already started (and finished) it, and found that that by trying to meet the requirements, I've done over double the work, and now I have to wheedle down my work to requirements otherwise they won't accept it. SERIOUSLY?! I was so mad when I found out!**

**Hence anger at an English assignment. I don't really know if I did that on purpose or accident, but it's a happy(ish) coincidence, so I'll let it stand. I hope you liked it, and UNTIL NEXT TIME!**


	7. Chapter 7 (LFM2U Del Scene)

**Hey. Weird that I'm posting so soon after the last one, but then, steady as they come, right? Actually, this idea came a long time ago. With my Letters From Me To You fic. if you haven't read it, don't bother reading this. Honestly, I don't really think this is that good, but some people asked for them, and I think that I should do it for them, even if they were few. One person asking should be enough to influence my decision.**

**Incase some of you were confused on the last fic, the one before this, Chuck is not God there. Or, you know, he could be, and just helping Danny out. The timeline, for those of you wondering, I would say is anywhere from a month to a year after Kevin's appearance, and of course, Danny's in college. I'd be adding this to the author's note there, but that might not be noticeable enough.**

**IMPORTANT! IMPORTANT!**

**This is a deleted scene from the ending of Letters From Me To You. My original ending, so the last letter does not coincide with this whatsoever. If you haven't read that fic, prepare to be confused out of your melon. Besides, I honestly don't think this is that good anyway, especially since I never really put in much effort to edit it. So, ENJOY! Hopefully I'll post something else soon, that draws attention away from this.**

Ben woke up in an upright position, tied to a post with ropes encircling his arms. He could feel his Mom next to him, and her warmth comforted him a bit. He could remember the demons in his house, how one of them killed Matthew, and how they dragged him and his mom here and tied them up. He remembered his Mom telling him to sleep, and eventually he fell asleep.

He blinked the bleariness out of his eyes and prepared for a full on glare at whatever demon was watching them, but he was met with the view of a short, balding man in a nice black suit.

"Good, you're awake," the man said in what Ben guessed was supposed to be a charming British accent. Ben hated it immediately. "I wanted both of you awake for my refresher course to Dean. Let' s see. Back off, or we'll burn the skin from their bones sounds about right?"

"You monster," Ben's Mom spat at him with disgust rich in her tone.

The British guy smiled politely. "Thank you. I try. Now, let's see. I believe this," he pulled something from his pocket, "belongs to you," he addressed Ben. He was holding up Ben's cell phone. "Now let's see if we can get a hold of Daddy Dearest. Something tells me he'll be very glad to hear from you."

Ben felt his mother strain against the ropes as she lunged towards the British guy. Ben shook with silent fury.

"Now now," the British man ridiculed in a chiding tone. "Let's not get rough. Now, I'm betting 'D' in your contacts is Dean," Ben's heart skipped a beat. "Correct?" Ben didn't dare move, for fear he'd give it away. "I'll take that as a yes," the British guy said, and pressed the call button. Ben's body shook with terror and fright.

"Ah, yes, hello Dean," the British man said into the receiver. "It's Crowley again. I'd like to remind you that I have your little lady friend and the precious pet, and I suggest you stop finding demons or we'll rip the flesh of both their bones in strips very slowly." Ben bit his lip. "What do you say?"

The voice was loud enough to make it to both Ben and Lisa's ears, along with the rest of the demons in the room. "I say who the hell is this?" a not so familiar and yet heart-wrenching voice growled. "Are you threatening to hurt Lisa and Ben? What kinda of sick psychopath are you? Who is this?"

"TRACE!" Ben screamed at the top of his lungs. "TRACE THE CALL!" A demon was at Ben's side almost immediately, a hand to his mouth and a knife to his throat.

"Ben?" came the enraged voice. "What the heck are you doing to my pen pal buddy?"

"A pen pal?" the British accent floated through the air. "How sweet." He crushed the phone in his hand, the pieces dropping to the floor. "I suppose I should have expected a dirty trick like that. But what is a know-it-all brat going to do? Call the cops?" The British man looked over to the demon holding a knife to Ben's throat. "Let the little brat go. He didn't do much damage."

_That's what you think,_ Ben thought ferociously at the British man. Ben just hoped that whatever Danny was that wasn't human, it could kick demon butt.

Hours passed, and every time a demon walked past Ben or Lisa, they would reach out and "accidentally" kick them.

"Ben, sweetie, it was very brave of you, but what were you thinking, getting Danny involved with all of this?" Ben's mother finally whispered when it seemed more than a few demons had left the room and the rest were out of earshot if she whispered.

"You and Dean don't know everything about Danny," Ben replied. "I can't tell you, they might hear, but Danny might be able to help us out in a way you can't really understand right now."

Lisa nodded quietly and leaned back against the post again. Another hour of demon kicks passed by, and Ben began to grow discouraged. He was beginning to loose faith in both Danny and Dean when he noticed the chafing ropes around his arms loosen slightly.

"Don't freak out," a familiar-ish whisper hissed into his ear, and from what he could tell, his Mom heard it too. "Act normal, or even a little more discouraged. If they catch me I know I'm dead. Again."

Ben lowered his head so the demons couldn't see his lips moving. "Danny?"

"The one and only," the whisper answered. "Sorry it took so long. We barely got any signal from that call and Tucker had to spend a lot of time tracing it. I'm guessing I was right about this not being a cop problem from that guy's black eyes?"

"Ben?" his mom whimpered. "What is Danny?"

"Uhh…" Ben answered. 'I'm not sure…"

"First off," the whisper began, and Ben felt the rope around his arms drooping even more. "I'm you're rescuer, and not evil, so I'd appreciate it if you guys kept your voices down so I don't get filleted by black eyes over there. Also, I come with a warning. Some of those freaks, I'm guessing they're demons, are talking about possessing you, Ms. Braedon, just in case Dean busts down the door and tries to rescue you. As for you're actual question," the ropes fell away, and you could almost hear a silent hiss of victory from the invisible Danny. "I'm half ghost."

Lisa looked confused, and like she was about to throw up. "Also, I'm warning you, its going to feel like I just dropped you two in a bucket of ice water."

"Wha-" Ben's Mom began to wonder, but was cut off by her own gasp as an ice cold hand clamped down on her shoulder, as well as Ben's. She watched in fascination and horror as both herself and her boy vanished before her very eyes. The feeling was peculiar, and very cold. It was like ice water had suddenly filled her veins instead of blood, and yet, the sensation was soothing, like ice on a bad burn.

Unfortunately for them, Lisa's exclamation had caught the attention of a closer demon, and he looked over at the post, only to find the ropes slack and the prisoners gone. "Stay very still," Danny's voice hissed in their ears, and they all held their breath as the demon called out in exclamation to the others and they all immediately scanned the room.

One of the demons focused on something past them, through them, and began walking directly towards them. Lisa and Ben were ready to declare it a valiant effort, but Danny wasn't done yet. As the demon approached, a tingly feeling joined the cold and the demon walked straight through them. The tingly feeling ceased as soon as the demon was on the other side, and a short pant of breath came from what both Lisa and Ben knew to be Danny.

None of the trio noticed, after the demon search was over, and they'd only went intangible three times, a frustrated demon kick a rock. However, they did notice when it clipped Ben's shin and bounced off. All the demon's noticed too, and before the tingly feeling could come over them again, the demons lunged.

Danny's ice cold hands were wrenched from their shoulders and both Lisa and Ben returned to the visible spectrum. They were quickly grabbed and restrained, and a black-haired boy was dragged up next to them. Ben and Lisa assumed that was Danny, but his head was dropped and his breath was even, making it appear like he'd been knocked out. Lisa and Ben sunk a little further into despair.

"Well, well, well," the British guy's voice came, like reprimanding a misbehaving child. "I guess your pen pal was a little more useful than we thought. But fret not, my pets, we're not letting you go that easily. Now, let's see what this little boy looks like before I rip his heart out, shall we?" The British guy strolled over to Danny and reached out to lift his chin, but right before he touched his chin, Danny lurched forward and his head connected with the British guy's jaw, sending both of them reeling.

"Dude!" Ben heard Danny exclaim. "You have a really pointy chin! I think that's going to leave a permanent mark on my head." Danny reached up a hand to rub his head, and the British guy recovered his poise. Two demons lunged for Danny, but Danny push his feet out behind him and the demons went over him and knocked into each other, and Danny caught himself and pushed himself up with his left palm while keeping his right on the top of his head.

Another demon went for Danny, and Danny removed his hand from his head and swung a punch at the demon, but it was easily dodged, and the demon smirked, only to have that smirk drop of his face as a kick he totally did not see coming hit him in the soft spot, and he staggered back to a moment, but only a moment, before he charged for Danny with arms spread wide, ready to strangle the smaller boy. Danny grabbed his wrist, and the demon dug his feet into the ground sideways, ready for Danny to try to pull the demon around himself, but Danny pulled the demon's wrist down and leapt over the demon, landing heavily on the other two demons who were just standing, ready to joint the fight.

The third demon scrambled to his feet and was ready to strike Danny wan his back was turned. "Danny! Behind you!" Ben called, but Danny had it covered. While the demon came up with a solid punch, Danny spun with unbelievable speed and held up one of the other demons, who got a demon punch to the face, and Danny tossed the excess demon on the third demon, kicking the only demon left in the stomach to keep him from getting up.

"Danny?" the British accent Ben was beginning to hate permeated the air. "As in Danny Fenton? Well, it looks like little Ben has snagged himself a far more valuable pen pal than I would have imagined."

"And how would you know?" Danny sneered, turning towards the British man. The British man help out a hand, like offering a formal handshake. "Name's Crowley. I'm the King of Hell. I'd like to propose a deal."

Danny's eyebrow shot up so fast it looked like a crazy mini black race car. "Like a deal without he devil? Doesn't that cost me my soul or something? I hate to break it to you, Crowley, but after death I've got an express ticket to the Ghost Zone to pick up where King Pariah left off."

"I mean more like an arrangement," Crowley reiterated, letting his hand drop. "The King of Hell and the King of the Ghost Zone working together. I would do very well in world conquest if I had both halfas in my corner."

"So you've got Vlad wrapped around your little finger, I see," Danny murmured. "How's this for an agreement? You let Ben and his mom go, stop whatever crazy scheme you're planning, and I don't incinerate you right here and now with a ray of supercharged ectoplasm? Take it or leave it."

"I'll decline, thank you," Crowley said, and it was only then that Lisa or Ben wrenched their eyes away from the scene…just in time to see a demon clobber Danny across the back of his head with a crowbar, knocking him out. "Well," Crowley stated. "This is a very favorable turn of events. I have the King of All Ghosts as my prisoner, along with Dean's precious little toys. This is turning out out be a very good day for me."

* * *

><p>Dean fought hard to get into the room where it was obvious they were keeping Lisa and Ben. He had to have fought and killed at least a dozen demons before he got through the door, and two three more trying to get through it and down the staircase. He didn't exactly keep track of the numbers, he was in a frenzy to get to the two of them.<p>

What confused Dean was that when he finally beat all the demons and looked to the prisoners, yes, there was Lisa and Ben, but there was another boy tied to the pole as well. He had dark shaggy hair and his head was drooped, the hair on the back of it sticking to his head too much to be normal. He'd obviously been hit across the back of his head and knocked out.

Dean hurried over to Lisa and Ben and both made relieved sounds and possibly said his name. Dean cut them free, and the dark-haired kid fell forward slightly before Ben reached over and shook him. The dark-haired kid didn't do anything, so Ben shook his shoulders harder, but there was still no reaction.

Dean, realizing the situation, reached over and gently, but not too gently, slapped his hand across the boy's face. Before his hand got out of range the boy's hand shot out and grabbed his wrist, and Dean was surprised. The boy's blue eyes snapped open, met with Dean's own, and then his forehead wrinkled in confusion. "Where-" he began.

"Come on, Danny, we have to get out of here," Ben interrupted, and the boy's eyes focused on Ben. The boy blinked, nodded, let Dean's wrist go, and stood up, a lot steadier than Dean would have expected for somebody who'd been clubbed across the back of his head so hard that there was blood.

"I'm guessing this is Dean?" the boy said to Ben, who nodded. The boy grinned at Dean, showing perfectly human teeth, while Dean was almost expecting something else. "Thanks for the Christmas Card," he said, and then it struck Dean on what Ben had called the boy.

"Danny?" he asked, his tone incredulous.

"This is the forth time somebody has asked my identity in just the past six hours," Danny stated in a way of confirming. "Who else? Come on. You're a hunter, right? So you can fight your way out of this, because there are demons swarming this place as we speak. There's no way Crowley's letting me go without a fight now that he knows who I am."

"What's the son of two ghost hunters to Crowley?" Dean asked, leading Ben and Lisa away and readying the knife. "No offense, kid, but your parents aren't exactly as credited as some of us, and their kid even less."

Danny grinned. "Now, if my parents were the only thing that gave me street cred in the magical world, then I wouldn't be worth a penny to Crowley, but that's not exactly the case. Let's move. I'm assuming you came here with somebody?"

"Sam," Dean replied. "We should probably assume they got him."

"Right," Danny confirmed, and Ben's head was kind of reeling that Danny knew what to do in a situation like this so well. "Well-"

"Well nothing," a cold voice said from behind them, and all four of them wheeled to see at least two dozen, if not more, demons standing there with arms crossed. All different shapes and sizes of people, all with their eyes black for a moment. "King Crowley isn't particularly fond of the idea of letting the King of Ghosts just roll on out of here, and neither are we."

"Well, that's too bad," Danny said, swiveling to face the demon that had spoken. "I've got a movie night with two friends tomorrow, and its a pretty long flight back to Amity, especially after fighting of some bozo demons, so why don't you just let us go and nobody gets hurt?"

"You wish, Pariah," the demon growled. Ben, Lisa, and Dean's eyes widened when Danny's eyes flashed electric green, and in a moment he'd tossed something that none of their eyes could see at the demon. It hit him on the forehead and sent him reeling back into a few other demons behind them, going to far to send a few of the demons with smaller bodies toppling to the floor.

"It's Phantom," Danny growled, and then grabbed Ben and Lisa's wrists and dragged them in the other direction. Dean didn't need a pull or even a word tell tell him to follow Danny, and Danny let Lisa's wrist go soon, but kept his grip on Ben's. "Oh Jesus," he mumbled to himself. "That worked a lot better than I expected, but now they're chasing us and I'm probably about to get eaten alive."

Danny pulled Ben around a corner and pressed his back to a wall, and Dean noticed Ben was panting a little from the exertion, but Danny didn't seem to be breathing at all. Danny looked at him. "We need to find your brother. I know you have questions, like why in the world my eyes glowed back there, and I know you also probably want to spew curse words right now, but save your breath. We'll deal with it later."

**UGGGGHHHHHH! I HATE IT! OH, gosh, I just read it again, and I'm cringing. UGH! GUUUUUGH! You know what, I'm posting it anyway. Just typing my next tidbit really, really, really fast. Oh gosh. UNTIL NEXT TIME!**


	8. Chapter 8

**I'm not actually sure at all where this one came from. I know that I've been craving a really good DP/SPN crossover for the past few days, so I guess I just tried to create one. Maybe. Have to admit it's a rather original idea. Maybe that's not a good thing. This was also supposed to be a Danny and Tucker friendship-ish fic, but I don't know if it worked out that way. Whatever. ENJOY!**

Ash, Jo, and Ellen heard the voices before they saw who they belonged to.

"Are you kidding me, Tucker! This is not an okay situation! We're who knows where, trudging through shifting reality, and you're cracking jokes."

"It's your fault we're here, so I have every right to make jokes."

"_My _fault? Sure. You're the one who insisted on teleportation. You're the one who distracted me when I was trying to focus. But sure, this is all my fault."

"Yes, it is your fault. You're the one who claimed he had teleportation under control. If you hadn't told me you could handle it-"

"I can handle it! You distracted me. Talking about how much of an angel that girl looked like. Then I was thinking of angels!"

"So then why aren't we in Anaheim, then. Instead, we're here. Wherever here is?"

"_Anaheim?! _What are you _talking_ about?"

"You know, Angel Stadium?"

Ash, Jo, and Ellen managed to push aside enough foliage to get into the clearing. They saw two teenagers, maybe eighteen, standing there, staring at each other in annoyance. One had dark skin, and was wearing a red cap. The other had white hair. They heard the crackle of dry leaves underneath Ash, Jo, and Ellen's feet, and turned.

"Oh great," the boy with white hair said, smiling a little bit."Other people. Thank goodness!"

The boy with dark skin pushed ahead of him, smiling flirtily at Jo. "Hello, beautiful." Jo rolled her eyes. "Me and my friend are a little lost-"

"If you try something about getting lost in her eyes, I swear I'll kill you," the boy with white hair said, glaring at his friend.

"Just because you have girls literally _chasing_ after you," the dark-skinned boy began, turning around to glare right back at his friend. "Doesn't mean you need to ruin romance for the rest of us!"

"Most of the girls _literally_ chasing me are trying to kill me," the white haired boy argued, and then turned back to the three hunters standing there. "Look, sorry to bother you, but we would really appreciate some directions, or at least a location."

Ellen tsk'ed, shifting her stance. "Sorry to tell you boys, but directions aren't going to do you much good here."

The boys looked nervous now; guarded. The white haired teen shifted his weight back a bit. "Why?"

Ellen and Jo glanced to each other, exchanging a brief but meaningful glance. "Listen," Jo piped up. "Maybe you two should come with us."

* * *

><p>"You teleported us to Heaven!" the dark-skinned boy, now identified as Tucker, shouted at his white haired friend, Danny.<p>

"You were the one talking about angels!" Danny shouted back, clenching fistfuls of white hair between his fingers nervously. "How are we going to get out of _Heaven_?!"

"You mean you can't teleport us out?" Tucker asked anxiously. "It should be easy."

"Right now I can't even turn intangible," Danny snapped, and Tucker's eyes widened.

"Why?" the dark-skinned boy wondered. "Do you think it has something to do with Heaven?"

"I don't see what else it would have to do with," Danny muttered irritably, slumping against the roadhouse counter.

"Maybe because it's Heaven. It's meant for dead people. So being just another dead person isn't really that important. Maybe it cancels your powers somehow."

Danny arched an eyebrow at Tucker. "Yeah. _Sure._ Let's go with that."

Tucker tossed his hands up in exasperation. "Well I don't here you coming up with any brilliant ideas!"

"How does your idea help _anything_?!" Danny retaliated, eyes flashing a brighter green.

"Well maybe," Tucker gave Danny a scathing look. "If you could use your powers in human mode, you could teleport us out of here!"

"And how, _exactly_," Danny returned the look full force. "Am I supposed to get into human form? Huh?" If my powers are out, that means I can't transform either."

"Well I don't want to be stuck in heaven while I'm still alive!" Tucker complained, voice pitching up. "I've got my whole life ahead of me. I finally got a girlfriend! I was about to get a contract on my software program!" He grabbed Danny's shoulders and shook him. "I can't stay here when I'm not dead!"

Danny shoved him off. "Get off me! Tucker," he grabbed his friend's hands to keep them from waving all over the place in panic. "Deep breaths." He made Tucker maintain eye contact with him. "Breath deeply, Tucker. I'm sure there's another way out of heaven. Don't worry, okay?"

Tucker slowly regained his composure. "Yeah. Sure. We just have to find a way back to earth from Heaven. Not the first afterlife dimension we've gotten trapped in. Besides. It's eternal paradise. How bad can it really be?"

"Exactly," Danny agreed, clapping him on the back. Then he turned to Ash, Jo, and Ellen. "You wouldn't happen to know a way back to earth?"

"As a matter of fact," Ash butted in, twirling on the diner's stool and facing the two boys, instead of his computer system. "This baby," he patted the computer system, "Can be programmed to find all the openings and exits from Heaven. The closest one is around two hours away from here. You should be able to get to it before it closes, with us as your guides."

Hard determination fixed itself in Danny's bright green eyes. "Let's do it."

* * *

><p>"We've been trudging through nothing but forest for half an hour," Tucker complained. "Are you sure we're headed in the right direction?"<p>

"Tucker," Danny hissed, exasperation clear in his tone. "Shut up."

"But-" the dark skinned boy began, but Danny made a slightly violent motion which cut him off before he could get another word out. "These people," he motioned to Ash, Jo, and Ellen. "They are dead. They didn't need to help us. They didn't need to leave their personal paradise to trudge through two hours worth of other people's heavens just to get us back to the land of the living. Hell, they could have probably called down a legion of angels on our heads. Instead, they're walking with two annoying, very, very lost teenage boys, trying to get us back where we're supposed to be. I have put up with you for eighteen years, and right now, you're annoying me to the point of considering homicide. How do you think they feel?"

Tucker opened his mouth with a reply, but then shut it, opting for silence as the wiser option. Danny pat him on the back. "Good choice," he consoled his friend.

Tucker frustratedly pushed forward and let go of a branch a little too soon, "accidentally" hitting Danny with a tree branch. Danny glared and brushed bark and pine needles out of his hair, mumbling, "No need to be so bitter."

"I'm not being bitter," Tucker grumbled back. He nearly tripped over a tree root, but Danny caught his arm before he could face plant into the forest floor. Tucker mumbled something that sounded more like a sneeze than a thank you, but Danny seemed to take it as the latter anyway.

Jo shoved aside another pine branch and took a step forward. She seemed to disappear into thin air, but unlike a few times ago, Tucker didn't freak out, because he was used to this by now. He followed after Ash and took the step forward, automatically switching heavens. He glanced around, and saw that they were now in an aquarium. There was a girl sitting on one of the aquarium benches, eating a churro and watching something that looked like an octopus. She startled when she saw them, backing away slightly.

Danny suddenly appeared, shaking loose pine needles out of his snowy hair. Ellen followed close behind, but Tucker was to busy watching the girl as her eyes zeroed in on Danny, or more specifically his faintly glowing aura.

"Are you an angel?" she breathed, brown eyes going wide while they filled with awe.

Danny blinked owlishly at her, tilting his head to the side. "I, uhm, what?" He pulled a pine needle out of his bangs. "I mean, I woul-"

"I'll get out of your business, then," the girl said, and saluted before bowing slightly and darting down the hall and around a corner, humming to herself. Danny blinked again in confusion.

Tucker doubled over in laughter as soon as he was sure the girl was far away not to hear. "So...funny," Tucker gasped out. "They all think...you're...angel."

"Hey!" Danny complained, flicking the pine needle at him. "At I can take that as a compliment. They think I'm handsome enough to be an angel, unlike someone I know."

They started walking down the hall with Jo, Ash, and Ellen. "Actually," Ash drawled, pitching in. "I would think it was more to do with the fact that you're glowing."

"Took the words right out of my mouth," Tucker said, laughter decreasing, but not quite fading. Danny aimed a punch at Tucker's shoulder, but Tucker barely managed to dodge.

"I can't help glowing," Danny complained. "Anymore than you can help breathing."

"Actually," said Tucker, holding up a finger. "Breathing is a pattern on increase, decrease, if we look at it in air quantity. It would be pretty funny if your ghostly aura brightened and dimmed like breathing."

Danny scowled. "You know what I meant."

"Boys," Ellen sighed. "Can you two go five minutes without quarreling over something stupid?"

Both Danny and Tucker considered, and then Danny shrugged and admitted, "Probably not. Tucker _is_ stupid, so..."

"Hey!" Tucker protested, aiming a punch towards Danny's shoulder. Danny dodged and shoved Tucker's back so he slammed into one of the aquarium tanks. Tucker peeled his face of the smooth glass and scowled at Danny, before purposefully changing the conversation. "So..." he started, looking for a topic of conversation, since they'd already gone through the whole "Yes, Danny _is_ a ghost stuck in Heaven" thing. "Uhh, I know this might be kind of offensive, maybe, so you don't have to answer, but, I mean, do you want to share some back story, or something?"

"Tucker!" Danny hissed under his breath, glaring at his friend.

"I don't mind," Ash said, waving it off. "If you're asking how I died, well, demons."

"Demons?" Tucker pushed, interest clearly sparking behind his eyes. "Those exist?"

"Well if heaven exists," Danny reasoned, a strange look on his face. "Why wouldn't you automatically assume hell did to?"

"Well not all of us like to assume without proof," Tucker mocked.

Danny's top lip lifted in a snarl. "If I had my powers right now, you would be so dead."

"I'm _soooo _scared," Tucker taunted, before turning back to Ash, Jo, and Ellen. "Demons?"

* * *

><p>"I almost don't want to go," Tucker confessed, looking between the portal to earth and Ash, Jo, and Ellen. "I learned so much from you about demons, vampires, werewolves. I mean, I thought it was just ghosts, but..."<p>

"You really opened our eyes," Danny said, sharing a small smile with their three guides. "Not only are we able to explain a lot of what we've seen but having had explanations to, but also, we can be prepared for the next time we have to face off one of these creatures. Really, thank you for all your help. We wouldn't have made it out if it weren't for you."

"No problem," Ellen reassured them. "And you remember that number I gave you?" Both Danny and Tucker nodded. "Those boys should be able to help you if you ever have any troubles with something you can't beat. Just call them, and tell them what your problem is. Despite what they might seem like, they really are good people."

"I'll remember that," Danny said. "Again, really, thank you." He stepped forward, facing the portal, and then glanced over his shoulder. "Goodbye, for now," he said, and then grabbed Tucker's forearm and tugged them both through the portal. They disappeared with a small flare of green-white light, leaving the three long-dead souls staring at the portal from Heaven.

Danny picked himself up out of the dirt, experimentally turning intangible. It worked, and he nearly whooped in exhilaration. He offered a hand down to Tucker, who smacked it away before scrambling to his feet himself.

"So I guess it worked," Tucker said, looking at Danny's smile.

Danny nodded the confirmation. "Yeah. I think we're back on earth again. Can you find our location?"

Tucker hummed and pulled out his PDA. His thumbs flew over the buttons, and after a minute or so, a beep came from the little machine. Tucker stared at the screen of his PDA in despair. "Are you kidding me? IRELAND!"

Danny chuckled. "I guess we'll just have to risk teleportation again," he said, and grabbed Tucker's arm. "Just don't distract me this time. I swear, if you mention anything about devils, I'll kill you." And the two boys disappeared in a swirl of green light.

**I still have no idea what's going on with this, but we can ignore that. It's finished. I wondered what Ash, Ellen, and Jo thought of Danny and Tucker. I can just picture Danny and Tucker needing help with a supernatural creature or something, and calling Sam and Dean, and them being all like, how did you get this number anyway. Oh, you know, your dead friends up in heaven. So, later. UNTIL NEXT TIME!**


	9. Chapter 9

**Uhm, hi. So, this has been sitting in the corner of my ideas box for, like, a LONG time. I wrote it, but it's short as heck. I have something else on it, but it's rough and sloppy, and I haven't written on it in, like forever. I'll probably add something else later. Maybe.**

**So, wow. I don't really have this much commentary on this one. Except that I have no idea what I'm doing. ENJOY!**

**"What is it Garth?" Dean's harsh voice filtered through the phone speaker and into the silence of Garth's guest room. "Do you have any idea what time it is?"**

"Sorry," Garth whispered. "Sorry. But I have a bit of a problem."

"Why are you whispering," Dean grunted, seemingly starting to attempt to wake fully enough to listen to Garth. "What's wrong? Where are you?"

"Amity Park," Garth explained, glancing around the dark corners of his room nervously. He felt under his pillow for the .45 he had under it, but knew it probably wouldn't do much against this thing if he was right.

"What?" Dean said, sounding displeased. "That town with all the ghost lies? Why? You did't actually fall for that, did you?"

"No," Garth hissed in a whisper. "There's a hunting family here. The Fentons. They study the 'ghosts' and actually can be useful sometimes. They don't know about anything but ghosts, but they helped explain the basics of ghosts to me."

"So?" Dean interjected impatiently. He had every right to be, Garth thought as he glanced at the glowing red numbers of the electronic clock next to his bed. It was four in the morning here, and probably close to that time wherever Sam and Dean were.

"The Fentons are a family of four I've known for around four years now. Maddie and Jack are the parents, and Jazz are Danny are the kids."

"I'm failing to see the problem here," Dean drawled.

"There's this thing about being a werewolf," Garth continued, and Dean stilled over the phone. "With all the combined senses that humans don't feel as clearly, and a sixth sense, we're, you could say, a lot more perceptive on the supernatural."

"Yeah," Dean urged him to continue, impatience edging on his tone once more. "What's so important you have to call at," there was a pause, "Three in the morning, Garth?"

"I was afraid to call any other time," Garth hissed into the receiver. "He might have heard me. Because I've known Danny since he was eleven, and he's always been normal. But this visit, Danny smelled different. Dean, Danny smelled like _death._ Like he'd been dead for a while, but his body wasn't deteriorating."

This admission shocked Dean into momentary silence. When he regained his wit, "So, what, like a zombie?"

"Or it's possession." Garth gulped at the possibility. "I've seen a few weird things going on with him, with his eyes. I don't know what the hell I'm dealing with, but it sure as sugar isn't Danny. At least not anymore. I could really use your guys' help."

Dean paused on the end of the line for a while, and Garth felt a spike of nervousness. Then, "We'll be there by nine," and the line went dead.

Garth ended the transmission and set his cell phone down on the bedside table, exhaling nervously. A simple phone call should not be that terrifying, but actually speaking the words aloud that Danny might be something other than human made it seem all too real. And thinking about Danny coming out of the shadows with black eyes or razor teeth was more than a little disconcerting. Garth was going to have a restless night tonight.

***smiles innocently* So I'll just leave it there (and probably never come back). Kidding, I might come back to it later...maybe. I've got like four hundred words on Garth and the Winchesters meeting up in the morning and being like WTF, but I haven't written on it in, like, forever and a day. More like four weeks. Which is like forever. Kind of.**

**So...yeah. I also thought I might subtly *cough*obvious*cough* note that I got a tumblr. I can't do anything. I am literally the worst blogger in the history of blogging. The word "blogger" should not even apply to me. But since we all know how much I am into Danny Phantom, I thought it anybody wanted me to follow them like an innocent, confused sheep, you could send me one of those ask-y thingies. The url is just ittickleslikecrazy, because I figure having the same name on everything is nice and consistent. Like, literally, you can google me and about a billion pieces of shitty writing will come up and smack you in the face. Don't do it, brah.**

**UNTIL NEXT TIME!**


	10. Chapter 10

**WHOOOOOOO! Okay, so a couple of you might have noticed that, hey, I wrote not one, but TWO Danny Phantom/Gravity Falls crossovers. If not, don't worry about it, they're kind of good (in my opinion) but if you don't know what Gravity Falls is, you probably don't want to go check them out. But anyway, the point of my saying this is that I wrote Dipper (character from Gravity Falls, FYI) and Danny in a mental hospital, and this super nice reviewer called Oblitus Angeli seems to share my strange love for Danny in a mental hospital. Therefore, he/she/they convinced me to post more of my Danny-in-a-Mental-Hospital fics, (which yes, I've written more, because I'm obsessed). I've decided to start simply with the sequel to Chapter Five of this very same fic, which you should probably read before reading this, but it's not super necessary. This is not, in fact, as good as the first (fifth) chapter, but you know, whatever.**

_**GUYS THIS IS IMPORTANT TO THOSE OF YOU WHO DON'T READ THE AUTHOR'S NOTE!**_

**The edited version is that this is a sequel-ish to chapter five of this very same fic, and if you haven't read it (just in case) maybe you should go read it. Like, now. Before you start this.**

**So, that's all. Actually, I have a tumblr now. So, yeah. Under ittickleslikecrazy, because yay consistency! ENJOY!  
><strong>

"Hey, sugar," Meg said, leaning against the doorframe while smirking at the two brothers.

"What's up?" Dean questioned, stepping forward, Sam following right behind. "What's the emergency?"

Meg's smirk grew wider while she held out a manilla folder to the boys. "The patient in room 18F isn't crazy," she said in explanation as Dean took the folder from her and cautiously opened it. "He's just too talkative."

The boys' eyes scanned the folder as Meg resumed leaning on the doorframe, carefully watching their faces while trying not to look like she was watching their faces. She saw their eyes widen and eyebrows arch, and she knew that they were as surprised as her, and she hadn't even told them the big news yet.

Finally, the brothers looked up from the folder. They made no move to hand it back, and instead Dean asked, "Have you told him anything yet?"

"No. That's why I called you two," she said. "But this," she reached out and took the folder, shaking it in their faces. "This isn't even the biggest surprise."

Dean raised an eyebrow at her while Sam shifted his stance. "Really? What's the biggest surprise?"

Meg felt the corners of her lips twitch up in a bittersweet smile. "He can see me," she said, and then elaborated further. "My true face. My demonic face. And he can see Cas' wings, and as far as I can tell, other supernatural things that are supposed to be invisible. Like ghosts."

The boys' expression changed again, to shocked but understanding. "You found a psychic?" Dean questioned, and Meg shook her head.

"See, psychics can't see demonic faces or angel wings," she explained, tone biting. "He can."

"So, what?" Sam asked, sharing a glance with his brother. "We have another fallen angel on our hands? Like Anna?"

"Maybe," Dean agreed, and then turned back to Meg. "Where is he?"

Meg jerked her head in a gesture to tell the boys to follow her. "Come on."

Danny looked up from where he was doing yoga on the floor when the door swung open. "Hello," he greeted Meg amicably, his lips curling up happily. He took in Sam and Dean behind her with calm expression. "Who are they?"

"This is Sam and Dean," Meg introduced the boys. "Remember how last week you and I had an argument over if you were insane or not?" She jerked her head at the two brothers. "They're here to prove me right."

Danny climbed to his feet, staring down the two men fearlessly, his eyebrow quirking upward. "So you two are here to prove that I'm not crazy." He grinned lopsidedly, looking completely harmless, and stuck out a hand. "I'm Danny. Good luck."

"Hi, Danny," Dean said, immediately stepping up to his role of good citizen. He shook Danny's hand firmly. "My name is Dean. This is my brother, Sam. We're hunters."

Danny's reaction was unexpected, but shouldn't have been. He stepped back, putting a yards distance between himself and the brothers, and withdrawing his hand so he could let his arms fall to his sides. He shifted so his right shoulder and hip were about two inches in front of the rest of his body, his right arm stiffening so it could be used as either a shield or a weapon at a moment's notice. Normal people wouldn't have recognized the defensive behavior for what it was, but then again, Sam and Dean weren't normal people.

Dean put his hands up in a gesture meant to show Danny that they meant no harm. "Whoa, big guy. We're not here to hurt you. Since you obviously know what we meant by hunters, why don't you sit down and tell us what you know?"

Danny raised an eyebrow, crossing his arms over his chest, more in defiance than defense. 'What do you want to know?" he asked, tone slightly hostile. "How I see wings made of shadow and light on random strangers' backs? How I see shadows surrounding the bodies of some completely nice, innocent people. Like Nurse Masters," he said, nodding to Meg, who nodded back. "About how I fight vampires with mouths full of fangs. It might have taken me a while to figure it out, but I'm insane. I belong in a mental hospital, so I can't hurt anybody else."

Sam stepped forward, drawing his shoulders forward and keeping his hands low to be seen as less of a threat. Danny shifted his foot back a little, rolling his shoulders up to respond to the taller threat. It was obvious to both men, as well as the demon, that Danny had been in hostile situations before, and fought his way out of them. It was in the way his eyes narrowed, and darted to the door and window as possible exits. It was the way he adjusted his body language to best serve the purpose of fighting off whatever he saw as a threat.

"Danny?" Sam said, keeping his hands low, palms first in a gesture of innocence and well-meaning. "Who did you hurt?"

Danny cocked his head, his blue eyes narrowing considerably. "And you care, why?" He was met with two blank faces from the boys, and one slightly smirking, slightly sympathetic face from Meg. He frowned, and then motioned to her, and the shadow he saw around her like a dark aura.

"You don't see that," he stated the obvious, referring to the shadow. "That black stuff around her that covers her eyes. I've seen other people with that," Danny began. "First time I saw it, I was walking alone down a dark alley and they tried to kill me." The boys didn't seem so surprised, and neither did Meg, but they all settled back to listen, looking at least a bit interested. Danny gave them a bitter smirk. "Instead I killed him."

This actually seemed to mildly shock the men, as well as Meg shifting her stance in the background, fully black eyes narrowing. "What?" she asked, her voice cutting through the air like a knife. "How? What did you use?"

"My hands," Danny said, as if that should be perfectly obvious. He arched an eyebrow at the black-eyed nurse. "What, you thought I'd have some sort of shadow-killing knife. Since you obviously seem to believe that I'm not crazy, and that the shadows and weird faces and wings woven of golden light exist. How about ghosts, huh? How about green fire that can kill shadow-coated people?"

"What?" Meg said, and she meant it to be sharp, but it came out soft. "What are you?"

Danny chuckled bitterly, grasping his hair between his fingers. "That's what I'd like to know," he replied, in a voice that was much less even than before. "But it's one of the questions that will never be answered for me, like if I'm actually insane, or just had my eyes opened? And if so, why did they open at age nineteen?" Danny tilted his head, his lips twisting and his eyes glittering with a sense of irony. "Actually, I might have an answer for that one."

He turned back to the Winchesters. "Just get out of my room...cell, whatever. I put myself in here, and I stay here, for a reason, you know. We all know I could bust out at literally any time, but I don't, because there are no black-eyed hobos trying to cut my throat with a rusty piece of car fender. Or, more accurately, from what I can tell," his eyes darted to Meg. "Demons. Because apparently I can kill them with a little bit of my own personal brand of power, but the human goes down too."

"Most of the time the human is dead anyway," Dean explained, crossing his arms. 'What power are you talking about?"

Danny smirked, and held his hands out in front of him. Seemingly without any strain or warning from Danny, both of his palms suddenly burst into green flame, which sent any shadows around the room dancing, casting dangerous-looking green light on every wall and shining out of the windows. Meg visibly flinched back, eyeing the green flames with obvious fear, not even bothering to hide it, even for the Winchester's presence.

"Halfa," she half-whispered. Danny's lips twisted bitterly, and his hands fell to his side, the green flames extinguishing.

"Yeah," he agreed, his eyes flashing from blue to green for a brief moment, and despite themselves, the brothers each took a step back. "Will you leave me alone now?"

Needless to say, Meg and the boys readily agreed.

**I honestly don't think that was as good as the first (fifth) chapter, but I guess sequels just aren't my forte. I've also been working on something long and SuperPhantom for the 22nd of October. I want to run that by you again, because I like to think it's important. I'M WORKING ON SOMETHING FOR THE 22nd OF OCTOBER! Yes, already working on something for October. And if you're wondering why, I'll say it before you ask, no it's not because of Halloween. Everybody always thinks I'm writing for people because it's halloween. The 22nd is nine days from Halloween. NINE DAYS! It's not for Halloween. It's for my birthday. And I like giving people gifts because it shows that I'm worth keeping around (wink wink) and it also helps remind people that yes, it's my birthday, and yes, I try to do something nice for you, so yes, buy me rock candy and pens.**

**Or, in your guys' case, reviews. I normally don't ask for them, because I kind of find it pushy and rude, because the review box is literally right there, and if you wanted to review, I doubt you'd forget, and if you forgot, you could always just come back later. But considering it is my birthday fic. I will be pushing for reviews on it, because you know, reviews are gifts and guess what people give to the birthday girl/boy/non-binary? Yes, that's right, GIFTS! And I love to remind people that it's my birthday. It's literally one of my favorite past times. I don't know why, really. I just like doing it.**

**I'm sorry for this dreadfully long ending authors note. The point of it, really, was to point out that my birthday fic, written for all you wonderful people out there that make writing worthwhile, will not be in this story as chapter eleven (or twelve, depends how fast I write) but as another story, in the SuperPhantom category. Just to tell you that if you're interested, check the SuperPhantom category on the 22nd of October, because hopefully there will be something there for you to review on. I'll stop writing now, since I've done enough bragging and self-advertisement, and wish you a wonderful rest of your day, as well as saying, like normal, UNTIL NEXT TIME!**


	11. Birthday Story Extravaganza!

**Part of my Birthday Story Extravaganza! Sorry it's so short, but that's why I'm posting it here. Basiaclly, Sam and Dean start to salt and burn Ember's body, Ember feels it and goes to stop it in the middle of a battle with Danny, Danny gets curious and follows her, Ember burns to ash, and then we see here.**

**ENJOY!**

Danny let the ash fall through his fingers, still warm on his palm, and glanced up at the two men that stood across the cemetery.

"What-" he managed to croak, before there was, a loud crack and he felt a sharp pain in his shoulder. Danny looked down and say shattered salt crystals laying amongst the dirt and ash. A moment later he saw a drop of green land on the ground, and he glanced to his shoulder, which had multiple tiny holes in it from the salt.

"Ember?" he said, instead of "ow" because for some reason, he wasn't really hurt. He looked back down to the ash pile, no speckled with small drops of green and red from his shoulder.

"Your friend is gone, kid," one of he men said, and Danny looked back up. He could see their faces now, the whites of their eyes, and they seemed familiar, though Danny couldn't put his finger on why.

"She-" Danny began, picking ip another handful of thin ash. 'Ember?"

"Dean," the taller of the two men hissed at his compatriot. "He's just a kid."

"Kid or not," the first man said, taking aim. "He's still a ghost."

**This is really short, but I'm happy with it, at least. I'm sorry this one is short, but I hope that the huge one I posted outside of Inspired makes up for it! Review with a Happy Birthday for me and get eternal love! UNTIL NEXT TIME!**


End file.
